


Submissive Tendencies

by autumnesquirrel



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Dom/sub, Feeding, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnesquirrel/pseuds/autumnesquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris leaves after his one night with Hawke. Hawke is having none of that, but Fenris refuses to submit to him. So, Hawke threatens to turn on Fenris unless he goes to Anders and submits to him instead until he's ready to come back to Hawke. This does not turn out the way any of them are expecting. (We, on the other hand, probably know exactly where this is going...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cypheroftyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypheroftyr/gifts).



> Tags will be evolving.
> 
> I don't have this done by a long shot, but quite a bit of it is written already. Not that I'm posting it all at once, but I'll try for at least once a week and hopefully that way I won't get caught up with myself until it is done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rape/non-con tag refers to past memories for both Anders and Fenris. Most mentions are implied rather than explicit. I'll warn for anything that goes into detail in the notes on that chapter.

Fenris knew Hawke wouldn’t leave him alone for long. Years of flirting, one night of sex. Hawke wasn’t the sort of man to leave it at that. Still, he’d thought Hawke might give him more than a day to think about what might come next. Instead, Hawke was here, now, perched on the edge of his bed watching him and waiting.

“Come here,” he’d said, gesturing to the space between his knees. “Sit. We need to talk.”

Fenris wasn’t sure which one of them was more startled by his, “No!”, he or Hawke. Though Hawke hid his surprise well, his face shifting from stern neutrality into an angry glower, his eyes open a fraction wider for only a split second in between, before he locked his jaw and ground out, “What?”

“No.” Fenris repeated, quieter this time. “I will not come sit at your feet. I told you last night, this was a mistake. It should never have happened, and it won’t be happening again. I am not your slave, Hawke.”

“You tell me I’m the best lay you’ve ever had, and you’re going to turn down another go?” The glower deepened, and then smoothed out. “You’re delightful when you’re not fighting your submissive tendencies, love. Tell you what, we’ll find you someone who can help you deal with your little problem, and then when you can be good for me I’ll give you another chance. How does that sound?” Hawke’s tone had smoothed as well, and now he grinned. “I know just the person too,” he said, his eyes hard and pleased.

Fenris was quite sure he didn’t want another go. Didn’t want to deal with whatever problem Hawke was so sure he had. And, certainly didn’t want to have sex with someone else, especially if the idea made Hawke grin like that. Still, best to finish the conversation and be done with it now. For all he knew Hawke would bring it up again in front of the others over cards, or out on a mission, if he didn’t get to finish it today. He dipped his head indicating that Hawke should continue, and waited to see what Hawke’s oh so brilliant plan might be.

Hawke stood and walked over to look out the window, hands behind his back. “I kissed Anders the other day,” he said, rocking forward onto his toes and then back. “He tried to slam me into a wall too. Much better at it than you were. More practice being on top I’d guess. He bites.” Hawke shot him a grin, before turning back to the window. “Not that it would ever work out. He kept trying to get his hands into my hair. Nearly turned into a wrestling match, toppy fuck.”

“And you hate him,” Hawke said, turning back around. “Which is perfect. He’s nicer than I am, knows how to deal with freak outs, and he thinks you’re pretty. Said so himself the other day. I’m sure he’ll have you sorted out in no time. I get my pretty elf back, you get to break his heart, everybody wins.”

The grin was gone now. Hawke dropped his hands from behind his back and stalked out the door, turning just across the lintel. “Next time you refuse me there will be consequences. I’ll give you and Anders a year or so to work it out. Don’t waste my leniency, elf.” And then he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Fenris wished he could pretend none of this had ever happened. That he could simply pack up and leave, or avoid Hawke, or ignore his suggestions. But, Hadriana traveled at Danarius’ behest. With her dead hunters might be at his door again within days, or Danarius himself. Bravo and posturing aside, associating with Hawke kept him safe. He could not afford to have Hawke against him as well.

On the other hand, the thought of returning to Hawke’s bed filled him with fear near as great as his fear of Danarius. Hawke hadn’t hurt him. And he hadn’t lied; the sex had been better than anything he could remember. It was, if anything, too easy. Too simple. Hawke had permitted him to take the lead a little in the beginning, but that hadn’t lasted long at all.

_Hawke backed toward the bed until his knees hit the edge, then lay back drawing Fenris down after him. They kissed heatedly for a few seconds, until Hawke was pulling his head up and back by his hair. “Down,” he’d said, “Take my cock out and get me hard, then back off and wait for me to tell you what to do next. The deeper you take me the better it will be for you in the end.”_

Fenris had done exactly as he’d been told; eager and obedient. Gotten him hard, cock as far down his throat as he could manage; jerked him off onto his own face, and then cleaned himself off again like a cat; rimmed him until he was hard again; stripped following Hawke’s precise directions as he watched, and then undressed Hawke the rest of the way as well; slicked Hawke with oil, and then forced himself to slowly take Hawke in and ridden him to Hawke’s eventual orgasm; and finally, Hawke getting soft inside, jerked himself off onto Hawke’s stomach, carefully cleaning Hawke back off after. He’d followed each direction to the letter, without question, often without conscious thought, and he knew, looking back, that anything Hawke had told him to do he would have done. He was terrified of what that might include.

He’d slept curled up at the foot of the bed, and woken a bare hour later from dreams so beautiful, and so distant, he might give anything to get them back. And he’d realized then that if Hawke handed him a collar and told him to put it on, if Hawke asked him to call him master, to drop to his knees when Hawke entered the room, if Hawke wanted Fenris to be his slave, that Fenris might very well give in. He’d dressed as quickly as he could, but couldn’t quite bear to leave without saying goodbye, and he hadn’t left the city.

And now, here he was following orders again; dressed and armed and on his way to speak with the mage about what submitting to him instead, until Hawke deemed him obedient enough to take him back to bed, might entail.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fenris didn’t want to submit to anyone. He wished now that he’d never flirted with Hawke to being with. He was trying to leave slavery behind. Taking his own jobs, as well as fighting alongside Hawke. Making his own choices. The more he thought about it the angrier he got, until, at the bottom of the steps into Lowtown he spun around meaning to head home and figure out some other course. Instead he froze. Hawke’s mabari sat on the the steps half way back up to Hightown, staring down at him.

For a moment he considered heading home again anyway. What could Hawke do? But even now he could think of plenty. Hawke mocking him in front of the others. Hawke dragging him to speak with the mage on Hawke’s terms. Hawke refusing to help him fight off hunters until he showed Hawke proof of his submission to the mage; until the mage assured Hawke he was training Hawke’s “pretty elf” well.

Fenris turned and headed toward the lift down into Darktown.

Most of the way across the square Fenris stopped again. He and the mage were, to put things mildly, not on the best of terms. He almost hoped the mage would turn him down after he explained what Hawke wanted, but it wouldn’t do to never get to explain at all. He was going to need some way to convince the mage to listen.

The door into Lirene’s Fereldan Imports was immediately to his left. Lirene occasionally had Hawke bring things to the mage if they happened to stop in before he did. Even if she had nothing she wanted to send perhaps she would have something he could buy and bring with him. He went in.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A short time later Fenris pushed his way through the door into the clinic. The lantern was lit, but the space was mostly empty. Too early, perhaps, or too late? Or maybe just a slow day? The mage was occupied, however. Speaking gently with a small child, pale, teary, and clinging to her mother’s hands. One leg was bloody, from hip to foot, and the mage was gently patting the long scratch clean as they spoke. He looked up, though, as Fenris approached, and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“From Lirene,” Fenris told him, tipping the box he carried slightly toward the mage.

“Put it in the back,” the mage said, then turned back to the child without waiting to see if he would be obeyed.

Fenris carried the box back into the mage’s room and set it on the table there, then sat down on the bed to wait, head in his hands, trying his best not to think about why he was here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part has discussion of past non-con and dub-con situations, part of my head cannon for both Anders and Fenris. It also has Anders explaining safe words and what the rule are, which gets a little sexy. Next chapter will have kissing!
> 
> It's also about twice as long as the last two chapters combined. Chapter length is, apparently, going to vary.

Fenris was nearly asleep when the mage finally made it back to his room. He’d been trained to stay awake and alert for hours, but the clinic, despite his distrust and dislike of Anders himself, felt safe. And truthfully, despite his objections to some of the mage’s opinions on the nature of magic, mages, and power, Fenris did trust him as a healer. Still, it was Anders, not Fenris, who jumped back in surprise.

“I thought you left ages ago. What are you doing still here?”

Fenris lifted his head from his hands, and looked a little past the mage, out into the clinic.

“Hawke wants me to ask for your help with something.”

“Ok. Hawke needs my help with something so he sent you? It can’t be pressing if you’ve been sitting back here for the last hour.”

Fenris sighed, “Hawke and I had sex last night,” still staring past the mage he added, “There were complications. Hawke believes you can help.”

The mage was suddenly all business, stepping forward into Fenris’ personal space. Fenris could feel him begin to gather power in preparation for a spell. A distant prickle. Nothing formed yet, but proof the mage thought he might need to cast.

“Are you hurt?”

“Or,” a pause and the feeling of magical potential dropped off, “No, you wouldn’t have waited for something like that. A rash?”

Anger rose in him at the implication he would turn to the mage for something so simple as a rash. “No. A rash would not merit a visit to you, Mage,” his voice grew louder as he spoke, until the last word was nearly a shout. He stood, and pushed past the mage, toward the door into the clinic proper. He did not walk through it. Instead, he pulled the door shut with only slightly more force than necessary, then leaned into it, the tips of his gauntlets sinking into the wood. He was a trained warrior, a bodyguard. He had more control than this.

“It is nothing so simple,” he said, body still tense, but voice now, again, soft. Running would solve nothing. He could not avoid this conversation.

He turned so his back was to the door, leaning back into it, and looked up briefly into the mage’s eyes. He was leaning back against his table, arms crossed, his glower shifting toward neutrality. Fenris looked down.

“Go on.”

“Before Kirkwall I was a slave. And, before I learned better, I was content in my position. My Master,” this word came out harsher than the rest, and he paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “He told me he loved me, and I believed him.”

The floor was wood here, not the packed earth of the outer clinic. He spent several long seconds examining it. The mage did not interrupt.

“Anything he asked of me I did. Not all of it required armor. He thought himself my god. He wished me to worship him. I did not question his desires. At the time it was a reward.”

He slashed down with one gauntleted hand, “Hawke looks to take his place. I cannot ...I would submit to him without question. I would be his slave, Mage. His Slave. I cannot do it. If I return to his bed as I am now I might as well return to Tevinter.”

He tipped his gauntlets up, looking at this palms. “He thinks you can teach me to embrace this submission, and then return me to his bed, fixed. Slavers dog me even now. What choice do I have?” He raised his head, looking for the mage’s reaction.

The mage was leaning back against the table still. His hands were fists at his side, but the rest of his body was relaxed. His face was neutral, but his eyes flickered from brown, to blue, and back to brown, before he closed them.

“He also said you think I’m pretty.”

The mage laughed at that, and opened his eyes. “His pretty elf, yes. I also called you a wild dog, and a blasted glowing pain.” He looked amused now, though he cringed slightly at the word dog, as if he expected Fenris to lash out.

It did hurt, but from a long way off. A dull ache. He’d been a thing and a wild animal for far longer than he’d been a person. “Apparently you have a year or so to fix me.” He was standing away from the door now, head up. He could feel his lips pull back into a sneer. “I imagine this is on your head as much as mine. What is Hawke holding over you I wonder.”

He expected the mage to retort in kind, but instead his face softened into a small, sad, smile. 

“He’s right though. This is something I know how to heal. At least in part. I’ve done it before anyway. The question is, will you still be submissive in the end?”

“Well, let’s see what it is we’re working with at least. Sit back down please?”

Fenris returned to the cot and sat. The mage remained standing. Fenris had to tip his head back a little to see his face. He did it anyway. The things expressions might tell him were too important to miss due to a little discomfort.

Something in the mage’s posture changed. He remained leaning against the table, but he didn’t look as tired or confused now. He was all business. Confident, but also something else Fenris couldn’t quite place.

“Before whatever went wrong with Hawke had you ever had anything approaching consensual sexual contact with someone else?”

It should have sounded judgmental, but it didn’t. The mage’s voice was completely neutral, as was his face. Fenris shook his head, “What do you mean by consensual? I never said no. Never objected to what He did or wanted.”

“Could you have?”

“It did not occur to me to even think to.”

“Did you ever have the chance to say yes? Or to ask for specific things to happen?”

Fenris felt a bit like he was being interrogated. This was not a question he wanted to answer. It was barely a question he wanted to think about the answer too. Something of that must have shown in his face because the smile and sadness returned to the mage’s face and he began to speak.

“In the circle there were men and women both who were like gods to me. I had sex with many of them, and I never once said no. Some of what happened I even begged for. None of it was consensual, because none of it was free. Saying no would have been worse than saying nothing at all and doing what I was told. Begging for things I did not despise was the only control I felt I had, and I took it.”

His smile changed. Less sad and bitter now, and more amused, “Not that I didn’t also have tons of consensual sex as well. It’s a wonder I learned anything at all. But, that was another way to keep some control for myself, as was running every chance I got.”

“And, I guess one of the things I did learn was how to top. Some of the other mages felt most comfortable in submissive roles, even when they had a choice. And, as I didn’t, I ended up being the top more times than not.”

“I’m guessing you’ve begged for things you didn’t really want more than once?”

His face must have given something away again because the mage grimaced, “Yeah. Thought so. Well, so long as you’re more comfortable submitting this should still work fine, but let me tell you how things are going to work because what I do, and want, and need isn’t like what you’ve done before at all, even if it might look the same from outside.”

“First, this must be consensual. I know this is something Hawke’s asked you to do, but if it’s not something you want we will find some other way for you to stay safe, or go back to Hawke, or whatever it is that you do want to do. If nothing else, Justice won’t allow anything short of full consent, and I don’t want him involved in this any more than you do.”

“Glower all you like, it’s the truth.”

“So, what next? I’m guessing you don’t know what a safe word is?”

Fenris was glowering. He hadn’t forgotten about the mage’s daemon, but he’d been trying to ignore it. Still, the mage had returned to his nearly neutral expression, and Fenris did not know what a safe word was. He shook his head.

The mage smiled briefly, “Ok. General explanation first.”

“A safe word is a way to say no without using the word no, and an agreement to listen to that no absolutely. It’s unquestionable. If someone uses their safe word everything stops. No questions. No arguments. Whatever is going on ends.”

“Personally, I have two words, and, if we do this, I’ll ask you to think of two as well. One means, ‘Slow down, back off, and talk. Something is going wrong, but I don’t want to stop, just pause.’ The other means, ‘Stop everything now.’ It’s a crisis sort of word, like what I first described. The unquestionable no.”

“Sometimes people like to play games like bandit and captive, where the captive wants to be able to pretend to beg for things to stop and not really mean it. I don’t really like that sort of game. For me a safe word is more like a distinction between a small no and a big no. So, there can still be simple yes or no questions. You can still say things like no, don’t stop, without ending everything. And there’s still a way to make it very clear if something needs to stop without having to use more than one word.”

“Does that make sense?”

Fenris nodded, though he wasn’t sure why any of this mattered.

“How does this safe word fix anything. You think all I need to heal is to be able to say no? I might as well go back to Hawke for that.”

“And how do you think that would go? Asking Hawke for a safe word? Or using one with him? Telling him ‘no’ again?”

Fenris was scowling again. Hawke did not like to be told no. A safe word might work with him once, but if he made it clear now that he would punish them for turning down missions ...Hawke had told him there would be consequences if he refused him again, and Fenris believed him. He did not imagine that being told no in the middle of sex would go over any better.

“Yeah,” Anders said, not quite smirking, “Not well.”

“A safe world isn’t going to fix it anyway. It’s just one of the tools that will let me do what I need to do. Right now you submit because you anticipate being hurt if you don’t. And then you’re upset because you thought you were past all that being weak and vulnerable crap.”

Fenris tensed, face twisted into a snarl, ready to lash out...

“Submitting doesn’t need to make you feel weak or vulnerable.”

...and had nowhere to lash out to.

The mage grinned. “That’s what we’re going to work on. That’s the thing we can fix. That and making submitting about anticipating pleasure instead of anticipating pain and avoiding punishment. The safe words will help with that. So will setting the scene properly.”

“So, want hear my plan, Elf?”

“No, Mage, I do not.”

Fenris was angry. Still strumming with tension. That the mage might see him as weak, vulnerable, it was unthinkable. And yet, Hawke had trapped him here. No matter how little he wished to listen to the abomination’s plan for his subjugation, Hawke would know, would find out, if he did not.

The mage was watching him. Perhaps he could tell what Fenris was thinking. He was almost smiling, but made no move to speak.

“Go on, Mage.” Fenris said. “You know we have no choice.”

“First rule then,” the mage said. “When we are alone, either here, or in your mansion, I expect you to use my name. We’re doing this as equals, and I expect you to treat me as one. I’ll probably come up with some pet names for you, but let me know if you don’t like them, because making you uncomfortable is not the point.”

“Outside of this arrangement, when we’re with the others, well, I don’t expect anything to change. Call me whatever you want, just like always.”

“Mage might make a good safe word for you, actually. I’ll certainly stop if you call me that during sex, safe word or no.”

“Let’s see. What else? Oh, as far as equality. You’re submitting to me, but I really do want us to basically be equals. We’re working on this project together. So, unless you want a collar ...what? Don’t glare. Sometimes people like to use them as a cue to help them get into the right head space.”

Fenris did not want a collar. He didn’t say anything, but he did glare. How could the mage, Anders, even think?

The mage sighed. “I don’t want to be called ‘Master’ either, ok?”

Fenris’ stomach sank. The glare slipped away. Even the thought made him feel cold.

“Yeah. No slave play, because it isn’t a game. No collar. No master. And we’re going to be really very clear about when we’re playing and when we are not. This won’t work if you don’t feel, well, maybe not safe, but at least not on your highest guard all the time. Hopefully eventually you’ll trust me. I wish you could believe that not all mages are out to hurt you.”

Fenris tried to summon the glare again, but he wasn’t quite feeling it the same way any more. Master. Never again. He would die first.

“Right, what else. You don’t like magic. I do, and I think it can really enhance sex, but for now I won’t use any. We’re going to be renegotiating that one though. You can always say no, but I think, eventually, you’ll want to give it a try.”

There the glare was. Fenris wondered how the mage thought his arrogance over frivolous uses of magic did anything other than illustrate Fenris’ point. Mages could always be trusted to misuse their power. Magic and sex hurt. He would have to be crazy to let someone try that on him when he had a choice.

The mage laughed.

“You make the best faces. I’ll change your mind or I won’t. One more rule for me; Justice will not be showing up at all.”

Fenris tensed, “Like you can control what your demon does? What of that girl?”

“And there’s your other safe word,” the mage said.

His voice was low, and hummed with power, and he was no longer leaning against the table. If Fenris stood they would be nose to nose. He let the tension bleed back. His hands were fists around the edge of the cot.

“Hawke talked me down from that,” the mage said, “and Justice and I have figured out what went wrong. It won’t be happening again. He doesn’t like sex anyway. Especially if it doesn’t involve love. He’ll just,” a hand wave, “hide or something. Believe me or not, he won’t be showing up.”

“Anyway, pick whatever words you want. Calling me ‘mage’ or ‘demon’ will also get me to stop whatever I’m doing. Outside of here too. Most of this we should confine to play, but safe words will always work. Card games with Varric. Jobs with Hawke. If you need me to shut up, I will listen. Just, don’t overuse it?”

“Do not give me cause to,” Fenris said, letting go so that he could lean back. He still did not want to lose sight of the mage’s face.

“I suppose that’s fair,” the mage said, dryly, not quite amused. He stayed where he was, settling in to Fenris’ space.

“I want you to pick a room in your mansion for us to play in. We’ll need a bed, at a minimum, but most of the things you have in your room would also be of use. Don’t just use your room though. I want you to keep that for yourself. Starting tomorrow any time we’re alone here, or in that room, I’m in charge and all the rules apply.”

“Oh, acess to a tub would be nice too. Do any of the rooms have baths off of them?” The mage smiled, looking momentarily distracted by the thought of baths. Fenris supposed Darktown wasn’t the best place for such things.

“What rules,” he asked. The mage hadn’t given him any yet. Or, nothing more than calling him by name, Anders.

Anders grinned and put his hand on the wall behind Fenris’ head. “The rest of this we’ll work you up to,” he said, leaning into Fenris’ space, “but starting right now your orgasms belong to me. If I can’t control when and how you cum nothing else will matter. Everything else we can ease you into, but, if we’re going to do this you are never to cum without my express permission again.”

He eased back a little, grin falling away, “Eventually I’ll be taking more control over when and where you sleep, what you eat, and what you wear, and we’ll be expanding where I’m in control to cover the entire house, and parts of the rest of your life. No way we’re doing that right off the bat though. Maybe a year from now, or two. When you trust me, not before.”

He sounded sober. Almost sad. Fenris didn’t know what to think.

“Anyway,” the mage said, smiling again, though not as wide, “fun stuff first.”

“Well, one more quick thing and then the fun stuff, actually. You already know that I expect you to use my name. I also expect you to acknowledge my instructions, and answer my questions. If I tell you to do something I expect you to say ‘yes, Anders’ so that I know you’ve heard me and understand. If I ask you a questions I expect you to answer. Blush, stammer, cringe, I’m still in charge. Plus, dirty talk is hot.”

“Oh, wait, also, I always cum first. I will always get you off eventually, but not until I’ve gotten off myself. That’s not how I’d usually do it, but it sounds like it is what Hawke would ...will do, and we should be prepping for that at least a little. You’ll always know when the next orgasm is coming though.”

The mage smirked at his pun. “Anyway, dirty talk. Orgasms. Cumming. My main goal here is for you to cum frequently, and hard, under my hands. I plan to drive you mad with desire. To touch every inch of you in every way I can think, until I know you perfectly. To bring you to the edge of orgasm and hold you there for hours. To have you hard and begging under me, flushed and exalted on top of me, tied up, bent over, ...you and I are going to figure out every single thing that makes you feel good, and then do them repeatedly, sometimes until you pass out.”

“And you’re going to make me feel good too. Penetration isn’t my favorite, but I’m still going to teach you how to ride me so we both enjoy it. And we’re going to really hone your blow job skills, because getting sucked off is something I enjoy, and I want you to enjoy doing it, to beg me to let you, not because it’s the least bad thing, but because it’s something you truly want.”

“I’m hoping for a great deal of begging, honestly. Begging, screaming, and cumming very very hard.”

“I haven’t done this in a long time. No time recently, and, well... anyway, no time with the Wardens either, and before that I spent a year,” the mage closed his eyes and took a deep breath, swallowing, “a year locked up. So, not since before all that joy. Still, I do know what I’m doing, and I think we can make this work.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting to thank resk for help editing. All errors are still mine, but there are fewer of them because of her.

His markings itched. None of his usual responses was appropriate here. He could not simply phase and kill the mage where he stood. He was in mortal danger, but not from the mage. Not exactly anyway; he might lose his sense of self if this went well, his will to fight. If what the mage was proposing worked he would be as submissive to Anders as he’d ever been to Danarius; dependent on him for every scrap of pleasure, every choice, every feeling. Would Anders let him return to Hawke in the end, or would he try to keep Fenris for himself?

Fenris was aching. Hard. The mage hadn’t even touched him. He wanted the pleasure Anders was promising him now, but he didn’t want to lose what little freedom he’d won. Not to the mage, not to Hawke, and not to Danarius. He stared down at his hands and realized they were shaking. He clenched them into fists, and then slowly opened them again, watching the the metal plates slide along each other, trying to control his breathing.

“Take those off for a moment,” Anders said from above him. Fenris jumped, all his calm lost again. He looked up with a scowl, meaning to refuse. The expression on the mage’s face wasn’t what he expected at all. He didn’t look hungry, or angry, or mean. There was no hardness anywhere. His eyes were soft, almost sad, and kind. When their eyes met he smiled. Fenris swallowed, and felt himself relax again. He still felt wary, but he looked down at this gauntlets anyway, and carefully took them off.

As soon as he’d set them aside Anders was moving closer to him again. First picking the gauntlets up and setting them on the floor. Then kneeling over him, one knee on either side of his legs. Barely touching, and only there where the sides of their legs met, sitting back and up on his heels far enough that nothing else connected. “Thank you,” he said, still smiling. “Now, give me your hands.”

The mage held out his hands, cupped together between his legs, arms resting on his thighs. And Fenris, despite everything, lifted his hands from his lap and set them into that cup. Anders squeezed them gently, then took one of Fenris’ hands in each of his and turned them to lay palm down, one on each of his legs, keeping his own hands flat on top of them. His face was almost blank, full of concentration, when he looked up. “Keep them there,” he said, pressing down slightly, and then lifting his own hands away. “I’m going to touch you a little now, on your face, and ears, and neck. Let me know if I hurt you, and make whatever noise you need to, but otherwise keep still. It’s ok to close your eyes. I’ll warn you if I’m going to do anything other than touch you with my hands.”

The mage licked his lips, but didn’t reach out. Didn’t touch. He seemed to be waiting for something. A memory sparked in the back of Fenris’ mind. He swallowed, closed his eyes, swallowed again, licked his lips, opened his mouth, trying to get himself to speak. Finally he managed a whisper; “Yes, Anders.”

“Perfect,” Anders whispered back. One hand settled lightly on Fenris’ shoulder. The other cupped around the side of his face, fingers behind his ear, thumb rubbing up and down the edge of his jaw. The hand on his shoulder lifted, and returned again to mirror the other hand. Fenris screwed his eyes tighter shut and fought to hold still.

The mage chuckled, his thumbs sliding up to play with the lobes of Fenris’ ears. “You might find it easier if you open your eyes,” he suggested, “So you can anticipate what I might do next.”

Fenris kept his eyes closed. One of Anders’ hands stayed where it was, playing with his ear. The other hand disappeared for a moment, and then it was touching his face. A finger ran across his eyebrow, with the grain, and then against it. Down his nose. Around his lips, tracing them completely. His next breath came faster than the last. Almost a gasp, but not quite. Anders switched hands. Now the moving hand swept across his cheeks, pet back and forth across his mouth, slid into his hair. Both hands lifted, then settled on his shoulders again, thumbs against the base of his neck. Fenris tensed.

“Lean back, head against the wall,” Anders instructed, “You’re too tense.”

Fenris leaned back, tried to relax. A second later his eyes flew open in surprise. The mage was squeezing and rubbing his shoulders, trying to massage some of the tension away.

“Ok?” Anders asked.

Fenris let out the breath he’d been holding and felt himself relax. “Yes, Anders,” he replied, stronger this time, and let his eyes find the mage’s. Anders smiled.

“I’m going to start using my mouth a little,” he said. “I’m not going to kiss you right away, but when I do you should open your mouth, and you’re welcome to kiss back if you’d like.”

Fenris licked his lips.

The mage chuckled again at that, and then leaned forward and kissed him in the middle of his forehead. Leaning back he traced his pointer fingers down the edges of Fenris’ brands, from his chin to the edge of his chest plate, then slid his hands over to hold Fenris against the wall by his shoulders. He leaned forward and licked along the edge of Fenris’ jaw. First one side. Then the other.

Every spot the mage had traced with his fingers he now traced with his tongue, working out and away from Fenris’ mouth. When he started lightly nipping and sucking on his ears Fenris closed his eyes again, his breaths coming in short pants. Eventually, ages later, Anders leaned back. Fenris was just beginning to open his eyes again when Anders leaned forward and opened his mouth over the base of his throat. Slowly, he licked and sucked his way up, over Fenris’ chin, and then, finally, over his mouth.

When Anders had mentioned kissing Fenris had been sure he would simply sit back and let the mage do whatever it was he intended to do. By the time Anders finally reached his mouth he was desperate for that touch, licking back every time Anders’ tongue slid across his, and leaning into Anders’ hold on his shoulders. When Anders leaned back, nipping lightly at Fenris’ lips before letting go all together Fenris nearly forgot his instructions and tried to follow.

“There,” Anders said, sounding a little out of breath himself, “That should hold you for a while.” He was grinning now, clearly pleased. His face relaxed, and the serious look returned. “I’m going to let you up now,” he said, using the voice Fenris was beginning to recognize as the voice of command. “I want you to go home and think about what you want to happen next. I’ll stop by tomorrow night around dusk. If the door is unlocked I’ll take that as a sign that you want to keep playing. In the meantime, touch yourself all you want, but don’t cum. In fact,” Anders grinned, “keep yourself as close to the edge of cumming as you can for as much of that time as you can stand. The more desperate you are the better the orgasm I plan to give you will be.”

Anders shifted backward, onto his feet, and stretched. “Well?” he said, his voice pointed, head to the side.

“Yes, Anders,” Fenris said, and stood, turning toward the doorway, picking up his gauntlets from the floor as he walked past.

“If you can find a room for us to use for play that would be great,” Anders reminded him. “Otherwise, I guess I’ll see you shortly. Have a nice walk home.” Fenris could almost hear the smirk, but he didn’t look back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. The next one will be shorter too, but slightly more naked.
> 
> This might be the first time we've gotten Anders perspective? There will be a fair bit of shifting back and forth between the two of them perspective wise.

Fenris knew the mage had claimed that he did not want a slave, but he couldn’t think of any way appropriate to await his arrival that was not subservient. He settled, eventually, on kneeling beside the fire in the room, armor off, but clothing still on.

Fenris thought the room he had selected must have belonged to the housekeeper or manager, whomever had run the house. It was smaller than his room upstairs, but still held a bed, unstained and in one piece; a small table; three miss-matched chairs, comfortable, but worn; a bench; and a free standing closet. There was little space between the bed and chairs, the walls were crowded with the furniture, and there were no windows, but there was a privy just next door, and the stairs down to basement, with the wine cellar and the communal bathing room, were just across the hall. It would do.

He had needed to carry linens back down from his room for the bed, having stripped every room of usable cloth when he moved in, but the mattress itself was still well stuffed, and not nearly as musty smelling as he had expected. That would do as well.

He had not dusted. If the mage wanted such things done he would have to order Fenris to do them.

He had moved an armor stand into the hall just outside the room, and a weapon stand into the room just inside the door. There wasn’t room for both inside, and he would rather be parted from his armor than his sword.

Room prepared, settled in front of the fire, he could wait in this position for hours, and yet, he was impatient for the mage to arrive so they could get started. He was hard now, still, again, the slight tension there becoming familiar. He wondered if this would be required of him all the time. Around the house it was a mild distraction. He did not relish the thought of leaving the house hard, and if he were asked to fight this way he resolved himself to refuse. 

-_-_-_-_-_-

The expected fight with Justice had been much less of a fight than Anders anticipated. They agreed that Hawke was a powerful ally to be cultivated, and doubts of consensuality aside, if this went well he would owe them. And Fenris? If this went well? If they, he, they, could convince someone who hated and distrusted mages to trust them? Fenris was a powerful ally on his own, but turning him to their cause would be nearly as powerful in itself. Fenris was a worthy opponent in open debate. Arguments which worked with him might well work with others. He was a distraction, but, kept in check this arrangement might well bear fruit.

They did not quite agree on what kept in check might mean. And, while Anders trusted his ability to keep his more powerful emotions in check for now, trusted that he would be able to keep Justice calm, not rushing forth to defend him, he knew eventually he would need to revisit this with Fenris and Justice both. Maybe, in time, Fenris would come to trust him well enough that he would feel less threatened by the knowledge that Justices was there.

Anders’ fight with himself, not that Justice wasn’t also a part of him, but the part of his conscience Justice did not inhabit, that fight had been worse. It would not, Anders was sure, be won in just this one day. The arrangement was consensual enough as far as Anders went, but did Fenris really have any choice? And yet, to turn him down would not, on the balance, give him any more choices either. Anders could not say what Hawke might offer Fenris next, but he couldn’t think of any solution better than himself. This might hurt him in the end, but he’d be damned if he let it put both Hawke’s and Fenris’ blood on his hands as well. The least bad choice it might be, but he did have some control over the outcome, and he was confident he would do his best to, at the very least, not hurt Fenris any more than he had already been hurt.

Anders had been a bit shocked at how submissive a submissive Fenris really was. Fenris had all but dropped to his knees and bared his throat. He claimed not to want to be Hawke’s slave, but Anders wasn’t sure if Fenris knew how to be anything else other than a slave when it came to sex. It was uncomfortable how readily Fenris fell into his role. How empty he was behind the submission. Not the Fenris Anders knew at all. The discomfort was good though. The discomfort would keep them moving in the right direction.

Minds made up, Anders had spent a good portion of his day gathering up anything he could think of that might come in handy. His one, prized and cared for, small dildo. A switch. A pile of rags. Some salve. A change of clothing. He slowly piled things up on a spare cot as he went about his usual activities, until, close to dusk, he’d amassed a goodly collection of things.

Bundle tied up and lashed to his back, Anders made his way up toward High Town.


	6. Chapter 6

Fenris had left the door to the room open, and a few candle lighting the way. The floor here was sound, but squeaked in places. The rot was seemingly confined to the front entry, but the decay was not. Anders was not surprised to find Fenris looking up when he stepped through the door. He was a bit surprised, however, by Fenris’ position.

On his knees, facing the door, hands resting lightly on his thighs; Fenris was looking up, and yet, Anders wasn’t sure if Fenris saw him at all.

“Fenris.”

“Yes, Anders.”

His tone was neutral, empty, all feeling as blanketed as it was in his eyes. As soon as he’d been acknowledged, and responded, he dropped his eyes.

Anders took a deep breath and stepped into the room. He’d been expecting this first time to be hard. He had plans, even. But plans would need to wait. Sex with Fenris now would be like using a control rod to have sex with a golem. It wouldn’t meet Anders’ requirements for consensual sex at all. Plus, it wouldn’t really be any fun for either of them.

“There is a privy to our right,” Fenris said from the floor, “and the bathing chamber is directly below us. The stairs are across the hall. I hope this meets your expectations.”

Anders had an idea.

“Thank you,” he said.

First he took off his bundle and set it on the table. Most of what was in it could be dealt with later, but he took out the salve, and most of the rags, and set them to one side. Then he took off his jacket, picked up the rags, and headed back out into the hall.

Just inside the door he stopped. “I’ll be right back. Take off the rest of your clothing and then sit in one of the chairs please.” He hoped the bathing chamber would have what he needed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

This was not going the way Fenris had expected at all. Not that he had known what to expect. Still, he had some experience being in submissive sexual situations, and the informality so far was foreign.

Still, the mage had given him a command. It would not do to fail to follow this first set of instructions.

Clothing off, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He didn’t want to leave it in the hall with his armor, or put it away somewhere he couldn’t easily get to it again. He settled on putting it on the table next to Anders’ coat.

His erection had flagged as he’d stood in though. He touched himself a little, a few gentle strokes until he was hard enough again, and then settled into the chair most turned toward the door, still on his knees, hands passive on his thighs, eyes down.

He ached. He wanted the mage to come back and make him cum. All his usual reluctance around having anyone touch him had been overrun by an all consuming desire to orgasm. That this desire was centered around the mage now was confusing.

The mage’s touch had not hurt any more than Hawke’s had. He had wanted Hawke’s touch as well, but that had built up over the course of years. This felt as if it had grown in the course of a day. And yet, he did want it. If Hawke walked in the door now to tell him it had all been a joke he would still desire at least this one night. Hawke ...generally Hawke did not joke.

Desire to please Hawke. Desire to have this promised orgasm. Curiosity at what might come next. Nothing quite made sense right now. He trailed his fingers up his cock again. Keeping himself just hard enough. Waiting.


	7. Chapter 7

The bathing chamber had what Anders needed; a medium sized bowl, and access to water. He was glad, climbing back up the stairs with it that he had not closed any doors.

The water steamed lightly. He’d warmed it in the bathing chamber, remembering his promise not to use magic in the room. Truly, the bowl was as much rag as water; the rags he’d brought down with him, soaked in the warm water, filled the bowl nearly to the brim.

Anders was a little amused to find Fenris kneeling in the chair, instead of sitting on it, though he tried not to show it. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. It just wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. Instead of commenting he set the bowl down in the chair facing the fire, and then returned to close and bar the door. Next he stripped off his boots and the rest of his clothing, carefully setting them with the rest of his things. Finally he returned to the bowl and lightly rung out one of the rags.

Fenris still had his head bowed, posture submissive, but Anders had been in such positions often enough himself and felt confident Fenris was tracking him with his eyes. Still, he made a point of speaking to Fenris before touching him.

“Fenris?”

“Yes, Anders.”

Anders reached forward a little and tipped Fenris’ chin up with the side of his hand.

“Hi,” he said. “I want to get to know your body a little better before we try anything more exciting. So, I’m going to spend a little time touching you. I want you to give me as much feedback as you can. If you like something, or don’t like something, let me know. And if you really don’t like something please tell me to stop. Do you understand?”

Anders could see Fenris swallow, and the expected “Yes, Anders” was not as confident as the last. Still, it would have to do. Any emotion was progress at this point.

He started with Fenris’ ears, sliding the cloth around the edge of first one, and then the other. He watched through Fenris’ hair as he closed his eyes.

“Good?”

Fenris tried to nod, forgetting about Anders’ hand, then swallowed visibly again before responding; “Yes, Anders.”

Across his forehead, along the grain of each eyebrow, down his nose, cheeks, lips, Anders paused again after sliding the cloth across Fenris’ chin. He could feel the lyrium lines, like brands or scars, under his cloth.

“Does touching the lyrium hurt you?” He asked.

Fenris opened his eyes and cautiously looked up. Anders didn’t know what emotion his face showed, but Fenris seemed confused by it.

“No,” he said, “Magic hurts, but your touch does not.” Confusion had morphed into fear, as if he expected Anders to test out this new knowledge on him now, despite his promise.

“Even healing?” Anders asked.

Fenris closed his eyes again. “Yes,” another deep breath, “Anders.”

“Blighted, fuck,” Anders said. Ok. Right. They could deal with that later. Much later.

“I promise not to use magic in this room.” Anders said, trying to remember what, exactly, he’d promised before. “Not on you, and not on anything else in here. Not unless you ask me to. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me on this, but I will do my damndest not to hurt you.”

He tipped Fenris’ chin up slightly, and then leaned forward and kissed him gently, first on each eyebrow, then the tip of his nose, and then, lightly, on the lips.

“Ok?”

“Yes, Anders.”

“Ok.”

He didn’t know if Fenris believed him or not, but hopefully what he couldn’t convince with words, he might be able to prove with actions.

He moved his hand slightly, and then slid the cloth down Fenris’ throat, each side of his neck, down over the ridge of his spine from the base of his skull. He let go and rewet the rag.

Fenris seemed to like touch on his shoulder blades and collar bones, and even more so on his hands. His arms gathered no reaction, but the arm pits seemed to surprise him.

“Good?” Anders asked.

“Mmmm,” said Fenris, then shied away when Anders ran the cloth down one side.

“Ticklish?” Anders said, “I’m going to try that again on the other side with more pressure.”

More pressure seemed to help, though not to the point of pleasure. His upper back was indifferent, as were, interestingly, his nipples.

“Sit up a little so I can reach more of your back please.”

“Yes, Anders.”

Fenris’ stomach was ticklish as well, but there was a spot in the small of his back where he squirmed into Anders’ touch instead of away from it, his face not quite pressed into Anders’ shoulder, Anders’ arms around him in something like an embrace.

Anders let go, and turned to rewet the cloth again.

When he turned back he was surprised to see Fenris’ hand falling away from his cock, which had flagged in its arousal, and was now hard again. Old skills again, he guessed.

“Stand up please, so I can reach the rest of you.”

Fenris stood fluidly from the chair, eyes still down, stopping just in front of Anders. Anders took his shoulders and turned with him, sinking down into the chair himself. He edged forward slightly so he sat just at the edge of the seat, then tugged Fenris slightly forward.

“Half step.”

Fenris close in between his knees he started with the cloth again. The smooth expanse of skin under Fenris’ bellybutton shaded from not at all sensitive to extremely sensitive where a patch of silky black hair began, his hips canting forward before he controlled himself, breath picking up. He didn’t quite whimper when Anders avoided his cock, sliding the cloth over to one hip instead.

“Ok?”

“Yes,” Fenris said, on a breath out, as Anders ran the cloth down the seam between his groin and one thigh. “Please,” on another breath, as he ran the cloth up the opposite side, skipping over the middle.

“Soon,” Anders promised, giving that hip a quick swipe as well, then holding Fenris still by one hip, and leaning forward to cup the cloth down and around one butt cheek, down the back of that thigh to the knee, then back up the side, down the front, and gently, slowly, up the inside.

“Please,” Fenris repeated.

“Step a little wider,” Anders said, taking the cloth away just before he reached Fenris’ balls. Fenris did, the outside of his thighs not quite touching the inside of Anders’.

Anders repeated the process on the other side, switching which hand held the cloth, but this time when he reached the top he slid the cloth back until his arm was curled under and between Fenris’ legs. He ran the cloth gently down the crack, his forearm sliding forward across Fenris’ balls, just brushed the cloth across the pucker, and then applied slightly more pressure in the space just after. Fenris started against his hold, and then subsided as Anders gently cupped the cloth around his sack, weighing it in his hand, before leaning back again.

“Wet this again for me please,” he said, holding the cloth out for Fenris to take.

“Yes, Anders.”

Fenris’ hand shook slightly when he took the cloth, but his steps to and from the bowl of water were steady. He settled himself back into the exact position he’d just left, and offered the cloth back to Anders.

Anders ran the cloth over the patch of hair at the top of Fenris’ groin, and then curled it around the base of his penis, and slid it slowly up the shaft, grip firm, and off the end.

“Good,” Anders said. He scooted back in the chair a little so there was a patch of seat between his legs. “Almost done. One foot here, please.” He indicated the seat between his legs.

Fenris’ knees and calves were unremarkable, but he reacted nearly as well to the space between his toes as he had to his fingers. Anders was also interested to see how thick the callus was on the bottoms of his feet. He supposed it made sense, with the amount of walking they did over rough ground, but he hadn’t thought about it closely before. Thankfully, his feet were not ticklish, though Anders wasn’t sure how much Fenris could feel through the callus at all. Most likely not much with as little pressure as Anders was applying.

Anders tossed the cloth over next to the fire, and then sat back. Fenris seemed calm. His breathing had returned to normal, and he stood without wavering, but his penis was still fully erect, and there was a bead of fluid gathered in the slit at the tip. Anders reached forward and ran the side of one finger from the base of the shaft to just below the flair of the head, and then turned his hand to run the pad of the finger up over the head, though the fluid and the slit, and then back down and off the head.

“Thank you,” Anders said. “Now it’s your turn. Wet a cloth and then take a little time getting to know my body better. I’m going to ask you to get me off in a little while, but don’t focus on that now.”

“Yes, Anders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have time to post tomorrow. I'll be gone all day on Saturday. And I don't know when I will get home on Sunday. It is possible we won't get to Anders' turn until Monday. It is written though, so it won't be any longer than that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of past abuse. ...I'm pretty sure most chapters might need this heading, actually. They are both healing from said past abuse. They're going to keep running up against it.

Anders gave feedback. He laughed when Fenris started with his ears, and then elaborated. “The cloth’s not going to do much for me there. They’re not as sensitive as yours. But I love having them sucked on. I’ll show you later.”

Fenris tried to follow the same path the mage had taken with him. He got a pleased hum for his efforts on Anders’ face, and a smile and tipped back chin when he ran the cloth down his neck. His shoulders were, apparently, a little ticklish. He squirmed, and then laughed again.

“I’m actually pretty ticklish all over. Press down just a little more and we should be fine.”

His fingers were “nice,” on a breathy exhale. His underarms and sides unremarkable. There was a patch of hair in the center of his chest, between his nipples, and he groaned when Fenris ran the cloth down it.

His nipples were surprising. “Yes,” Anders said, at the first pass of the cloth. “Again.” Fenris ran the cloth over the nipple again. Anders reached up to hold his hand, and the cloth, in place. His face was intent, serious, and flushed. He held Fenris’ eyes. “I love having my nipples played with. I could spend hours letting someone explore them. Pinching. Biting. Licking. Any amount of pressure is good. Do the other side now, and then I’ll stand up so you can reach more of me.”

The mage was also covered in scars. Fenris had noticed the large one over his heart, and had mostly ignored the assortment on his torso and arms, but the mage’s back was something else entirely. There was a small scar behind the large one on his chest, and then lines from the top of his shoulders to the back of his knees. His buttocks were covered in a neat cross hatch pattern, as if someone had spent a long time laying the skin open in perfectly parallel lines. Fenris wasn’t sure if they had used a knife or a whip. Most of the rest of the lines were less evenly spaced, but there were a few down his back Fenris suspected had been delivered by the same hand.

Fenris balked. Anders hadn’t mentioned the scars, but he’d asked Fenris about touching his brands. Fenris rewet the cloth, and then laid it over Anders’ heart.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, but avoid that one,” Anders said. “I like having the others touched though. Especially the ones on my back and ass. Especially with someone’s mouth. They’re ugly. It’s nice to have someone pay good attention to them.”

“A whip?” Fenris asked, running the cloth down Anders’ stomach, forgetting for the moment any attempts at formality.

“Mostly,” Anders replied. “Punishment for escape attempts, for the most part. Didn’t help.” His grin was savage. “Bit of a mood killer, that, hold up.”

Fenris paused. Anders cupped his face in both hands and proceeded to kiss him with great intent. Licking across his lips, and then pausing to breathe, not quite touching, before bridging the gap between their mouths with his tongue again, this time sweeping into Fenris’ mouth and exploring it most thoroughly. Occasionally he would retreat, sliding their lips wetly against each other, before pushing forward again with his tongue, all the while kneading and gently scratching at the base of Fenris’ skull where his fingers were curled. Not until they were both breathing heavily through their noses did Anders pull back, supporting Fenris’ head still until he regained his bearings.

Anders was grinning. “Ok. Better. You can finish up with the washing and exploring now.”

It took Fenris several extra seconds before he remembered that he still held a cloth in one hand. He looked down at it blurally. It was no longer particularly damp. He stared at it a moment more, and then turned and rewet it.

Anders did seem to like having his back touched, though the cloth was evidently not his favorite way to have that done. There was hair across his shoulders, and a patch in the small of his back. He groaned at the cloth’s swipe there, as he had when Fenris had run the cloth down the hair between his nipples.

There was also hair under Anders’ navel. It started out as a thin line, and quickly became a heavy strip. He whimpered when Fenris touched the top of it with the cloth, and leaned into his hand.

“S’good. Everything south of there is going to be good. Even my hips and upper thighs. Knees down are ticklish again, and you should maybe avoid the bottoms of my feet, but right now? Right now we’re in the good part.”

Fenris rewet the cloth again, and then sank to his knees. It would be easier to control his touch reaching from this angle.

Anders groaned. Again. He did not, in fact, stop groaning, or whimpering, or saying “yes” in various different excited and breathless tones of voice, for the next several minutes. Fenris made sure to be very thorough, and tried to pay attention to the places he touched where Anders leaned into his hand as well. There were quite a few.

As Anders had noted, he mostly did not react to having his calves or knees wiped. Fenris got between his toes as best as he could without picking up his feet.

Task finished Fenris tossed his cloth over next to the fire as well, and then stayed kneeling, looking down.

Anders touched him on the top of his head, and then crouched down next to him. He lifted Fenris’ chin with one finger and kissed him gently on the lips. “Thank you,” he said. “Let’s move over to the bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. Is this a better or worse place to leave you for a couple of days? I'm not sure.
> 
> Oh well. I hope everyone has a lovely weekend. (There are page hits. And kudos. Someone must be reading this.)


	9. Chapter 9

Anders stood, and then reached down to pull Fenris up by his hand. Still holding on he made his way around the chairs, drawing Fenris after him.

He paused briefly to snag the salve on his way past the table, and then again when he reached the bed. Salve. Bed. They were going to want the rags again, weren’t they.

“Here. Hold this.” He handed the salve to Fenris, and then made his way back around the chairs, and returned with the bowl, which he set on the floor next to the bed. He took the salve from Fenris and set it next to the bed as well, and then made a pile of the pillows and blankets up against the head of the bed and settled himself into it.

Head against the wall, back supported by pillows, legs wide open stretched out in front of him, Anders felt a bit like he was on display. Fenris stood where Anders had left him, looking down again.

“You can look, you know? Watching isn’t in any way forbidden. I don’t mind.”

“Yes, Anders.”

Fenris did not look up. Anders remembered avoiding the eyes of Templars after a while. Defiance was never safe, and eye contact was a challenge. Eye contact said you hadn’t been cowed.

“Ok. It’s not required either,” Anders said. “So. Let’s see what you’ve picked up. I want you to bring me to orgasm, but how you go about that is up to you. No penetration, anything else goes, though I can’t promise I won’t interfere if I like, or don’t like something in particular. Ok?”

“Yes, Anders.”

“Good. Whenever you’re ready.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fenris was not at all sure what he was supposed to do. Acting without explicit instructions in this capacity was ...he took several deep breaths. Delaying would, of course, not be looked upon kindly. He crawled onto the bed and tried frantically to think. What had the mage said?

Anders’ legs were open wide. It seemed reasonable then to kneel between them. His cock was semi-hard, resting back in a nest of curly red-gold hair. Fenris could simply take it into his mouth and follow an old remembered script, but Anders had said something.

_“Let’s see what you’ve picked up.”_

Fenris let his eyes scan up Anders’ body, remembering feedback. The trail of hair up his belly, his nipples, scars Fenris could no longer see, his eyes slid across the mage’s face. Anders was smiling, eyes closed, looking for all the world to be as relaxed as possible. He had said something about his ears? And sucking?

Fenris scooted a little further forward, balanced a hand on the headboard next to Anders shoulder, and leaned in. At the first touch of his mouth Anders groaned and tipped his head to give Fenris better access.

“Little more pressure. Maybe some teeth. Nnnnnahhh...” His comments dissolved into a high pitched noise of pleasure when Fenris employed his suggestions.

Fenris spent several more second on Anders’ ear, and then worked his way down the side of his neck. Anders tipped his head to the other side and Fenris took the hint. His other ear elicited a similar reaction. When the noises had died down some Fenris again worked his way down, bracing his hands on Anders’ arms now, and finally reached a nipple.

Anders had not been lying about his nipples. He leaned into Fenris’ mouth the second Fenris ran his tongue across the pebbled skin, and began make small chirps and whimpers every time Fenris changed what he was doing.

Fenris alternated between licking the nipple firmly, and pulling back to breath hotly across it. Eventually Anders lifted his hand from the opposite side and held Fenris down to his chest, panting.

“Suck. Please. Teeth. Anything. Now. Please.”

Fenris obliged. Directions were good. He liked directions, even garbled ones.

“Yes.”

“More.”

“Fuck.”

“Hold on with your teeth. Not too hard.” Anders pulled his head back by his hair. The nipple was pulled taut, and then slipped from his mouth. Anders pushed his head back down. “Again.”

Twice more, and then Anders pulled his head to the other side of his chest.

“Lick.”

They repeated the process on the other side.

“Fuck,” Anders said, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck, and then lightly touched the top of his head. “Down. Hands or mouth. But decide now where you want me to cum, because I’m getting close.”

Fenris quickly scooted backward and down, but somehow had the presence of mind to start licking just under Anders’ bellybutton. His surprised “Niiiiaaaah” shaded into a groan as Fenris worked his way lower, licking and sucking down the trail of hair, around the base of his cock, and then down between his balls.

He licked quickly back up the length of Anders’ cock three times, wrapped his hand around it, braced his other hand on Anders’ thigh, and proceeded to explore the rest of Anders’ groin with his mouth. Licking up, and then sucking back down, the seam between his thigh and pelvis. Following the edge of the patch of hair back up to his stomach, and down again. Sucking first one testicle, and then the other, gently into his mouth. Licking and sucking on the base of his cock. He kept his hand moving, and tried to lick or suck on everything he could reach.

His mouth on Anders’ scrotum again, trying to work his way back as far as he could go at this angle, the pitch of Anders’ swearing changed, and his hand was suddenly covered by another. Anders curled their hands tighter around himself, and increased the pace. Fenris kept his mouth where is was, licking frantically, trying to match it.

“Fuck. Mother. Holy Andraste. Fucking Maker. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Anders’ cum pooled around their hands, making the subsequent passes slippery. He slowed them down, letting go bit by bit as he did. Fenris stopped licking, but didn’t move. He felt Anders relax beneath him, and then there was a hand in his hair petting. After a few moments of that he cautiously lifted his head. Anders looked sated, like he had just cum. Flushed, and sleepy, a small smile, eyes not quite open. “Want a taste?” he asked, holding out his other hand.

Fenris held his eyes, leaned forward, and licked carefully up the length of one finger. It was bitter, and the texture had not improved since the last time he had tasted someone’s, Hawke’s, spend. Anders ran his thumb across Fenris’ lips, and then reached down to his side. He came back with a couple of rags, and handed one to Fenris.

“For your hand. And your mouth if you want. I’ll try not to make you swallow it too often.”

Fenris wiped off his hand. He did not wipe off his mouth. The mage might say he wouldn’t make Fenris swallow, but he’d also said that he loved being sucked off. He might as well get used to the taste now.

His hand was clean. He found himself looking at his nails. And then Anders’ hand was there taking away his cloth, and dropping it to the side.

“Your turn now. Scoot back so that I can sit up.”


	10. Chapter 10

Anders sat up more fully, and resettled the pillows around him. He felt warm. Happy. He hadn’t cum by someone else’s hand in a while. It was nice to have someone pay him that sort of attention.

Fenris had scooted back, and was now kneeling at the foot of the bed. Posture submissive. Eyes down. Anders hoped he could break him of at least that part of his training soon. Heartache did not mix well with lust.

“Come here please. Sit with your back to me, and then scoot back as far as you can get and lean back.”

Fenris settled himself into place. He was stiff, and didn’t seem to know what to do with his legs. Anders slid his hand down one to the back of a knee and lifted it, knee over his leg, calf to the outside of his. He did the same thing on the other side, and then shifted himself forward, and Fenris back, until they were flush. His cock was showing interest again. He’d always had a healthy appetite in this regard. Being a Grey Warden hadn’t hurt. He slid a hand between them and settled his cock into the small of Fenris’ back.

“Relax back against me, please. Arms to your sides, and keep your hands to yourself. Ok?”

“Yes, Anders.” Fenris took several slow breaths, relaxing into his arms. Anders curled his arms around him, not quite in an embrace, and then smoothed his hands lightly down the inside of his thighs. Fenris tipped his head slightly back. Anders had no idea how he was keeping his breathing so even. He was going to have to work hard for real feedback here.

Top to bottom was always a good bet. Anders turned his head and started to lick and nuzzle at Fenris’ ear. “This will be good,” he promised. “You’ll like this.”

A slight nip at the tip of the ear earned a tiny gasp. Sucking down the side didn’t change anything, but Fenris did tip his head to the side as Anders worked his way down his neck as well. 

“Other side.” Fenris tipped his head to the other side.

Nibbling down the other ear produced better results. Fenris’ breathing wasn’t nearly so even by the time Anders made it down to his shoulder again. He’d left marks this time. He hoped Fenris didn’t mind. He healed quickly. Maybe it wouldn’t matter.

Anders held Fenris’ head against his shoulder with one hand and lifted Fenris’ hand to his mouth with the other. He shifted so he could see Fenris’ face, tipping his head up with a thumb to his chin. And, holding eye contact, sucked one finger into his mouth. Fenris licked his lips, breath catching, and then picking up again. Anders moved on to the next finger.

He licked and sucked on each finger individually, and then moved on to lick the palm of his hand as well, covering it in as much saliva as he could. As slick as he could make it he cupped his hand around it and brought it down to Fenris’ cock, and curled their hands around it together. One pass up, and off, Fenris tensing again, trying not to thrust. Anders set Fenris’ hand back to his side, and started licking his own hand as well.

Anders wrapped his hand around Fenris, and stroked gently, up and down, avoiding the head. Fenris was panting a little now, head tipped back.

Anders slid his other hand down Fenris’ body, just shy of his side, fingers and thumb down the seam between his leg and groin, and then cupped it around his sack and balls. Not squeezing, just holding, supporting.

“Hold on to my hips.”

Anders squeezed his arms against Fenris as tightly as possible with his hands where they were, and began to move.

Sweat and damp from earlier eased his cock against Fenris’ back. Saliva eased his hand over Fenris’ cock. He hadn’t been sure if he would need the salve or not, but things seemed to be working fine so far. He started slowly, letting his body push Fenris’ cock into his hand, and his hand, pushing back down the shaft, sending Fenris’ body back against him again. Once he’d established a rhythm he let himself speed up a little. Fenris was helping now too. Arching into his hand and easing back from it, panting lightly.

Anders was panting now too. Getting close again already. Seeing Fenris like this was more exciting than he had imagined. He closed his hand more firmly around Fenris, and let his fingers pass up over the tip each time he pushed them forward now. Slick pooled there, and made each pass easier. Almost. Almost. Fenris must be getting close now.

“Fenris,” Anders said, breathless, pleading. “Come on, sweetheart, come on. Cum for me. Let it go. I know you’ve been waiting. You can cum now. I want you too. Cum for me.”

Anders sped up his hand, gripping tighter. Fenris was arching into his touch, silent but for his breath.

“Close, babe? Fenris. Talk to me. Are you close? Cum for me.” Anders turned his head and bit down lightly on the side of Fenris’ ear.

Not quite a whimper in the back of his throat. Close then. He must be. Any sound at all was a surprise.

Fenris was rocking in counterpoint to him now, pushing up into his hand as it slid down. His balls started to pull up toward his body, and words finally bubbled up and out.

“Yes, Anders, please. Please. Please!”

His cum shot up his chest, his stomach, pooled over Anders hand and onto his groin. Anders let himself go, rocking frantically against Fenris’ back, groaning out his own release a few seconds later, covering Fenris’ back in cum as well.

It took Anders a little while to come back to himself again. Fenris was quiet in his arms, cock going soft inside the curl of his hand. His eyes were closed. His face carefully blank again. Anders wasn’t sure what it meant. He brought his hand up to his mouth and licked it. He’d always rather liked the taste of cum. Hmmm, no lyrium though. A dissapointment.

Fenris stayed still as Anders gently wiped them both off again, though he did open his eyes, and sat up when prompted. Only when Anders got up from behind him did he shiver and look around.

“I’ll be right back. Stay there, but get a blanket around you, yeah?”

A quick trip to the privy. Fenris was in the exact same place he’d left him, but he was wrapped in a blanket as instructed. Anders sat down on the side of the bed.

“I’m going to sleep here tonight. You can sleep with me, or go back to your room. If you stay here I’ll get you off again in the morning. If not, I guess I’ll see you again the night after next, and you’ll have to wait until then to cum. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Anders. Sleep here or upstairs. You’ll be back not tomorrow, but the night after.”

Fenris sounded much more like himself now, but he still looked like he was a long way off.

“Oh, also, I’ll want to know what you’ve picked for safe words next time. I don’t think we’ll need them for a while. Maybe never. But, I’ll feel better if they’re in place. Ok?”

“Yes, Anders.”

“You going to sleep here, or go upstairs?”

“I will go upstairs.” Fenris scooted forward, and then stood up from the bed. “I will see you in two nights time. I will not cum before then.”

Anders settled back onto the bed, wrapping a sheet around himself, then digging a blanket out of the pile. He watched quietly as Fenris found his clothing and dressed. He left the blanket neatly folded on the table, and, taking his sword, opened the door.

“Goodnight, Fenris.”

Fenris did not answer, just closed the door behind him. Anders wasn’t sure if he’d even heard.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More past abuse head canon, and some this universe head canon about Anders. Fenris is being a little melodramatic here, but that's because he doesn't trust Anders or understand him.
> 
> This is short again. Next time will be longer, and rolling right back into another multi-chapter sex scene.

A few weeks later Fenris knelt naked, his back to the fire, anticipating his death.

The past few weeks had been good, and in a moment of anger he had ruined everything.

The day after their first night together Fenris had been loath to leave his room, lest he run into the mage leaving the mansion, or otherwise be forced to interact with him again. Sitting idle however had been just as bad. He could not stop thinking about the night before.

Orgasm by Anders’ hand had surpassed any sexual encounter Fenris could remember having. Danarius had asked others to milk him when he had need of Fenris’ spend, and had never let him cum when making use of him otherwise. Hadriana had tormented him, and denied him release. Before Hawke he had sought release on his own a few times, and Hawke asking him to do so had been an amazing thing on its own. Anders focusing on his pleasure was another thing again. And he had ruined it.

The second time they had met Fenris was still standing in the door of the room when Anders arrived, though he had been there for some time. The room had been dusted. The floor had, somehow, been mopped. Anders had even emptied the ashes from the hearth, remade the bed, and taken away the dirty linens.

_“Hey. Strip down and the get on the bed. I’ll join you in a second. I just have to put this stuff away and get us some water.”_

That night Anders had used the salve to slick both their erections, and had held his hand around them with his own, rocking them both to orgams. Fenris had cum seconds after Anders.

He had not spent the night that night, or any after, though he did not know how he had made it back up the stairs. And every other night, alternating, Anders had come to him and engineered orgasms for them both.

Two nights ago had been an off night. Hawke had not requested Fenris’ aid since their last conversation, so the pounding on his door had been completely unexpected. It was Aveline, not Hawke, who greeted him, and her news was grim. Hawke’s mother was missing. Someone had left her a bouquet of white lilies. All of Hawke’s associates were gathering at his house, and search parties would spread out from there.

Hawke chose to take Fenris and Anders with him, as well as Varric. They had been too late, and yet again a killer had proved to be a blood mage and a monster.

Still, the screaming argument with Anders after was his own fault. He should have kept such things to himself. Anders had power over him here. He had forgotten himself. Hawke did not begrudge him his insights. Hawke’s father had taught his son the dangers magic carried with it. Hawke understood. Anders did not. And now Anders would come here and the weeks of easy pleasure would be over.

Perhaps the punishment would not kill him. Perhaps he would be able to fight back. Perhaps if he were very good Anders might let him redeem himself in some small way. He had, after all, given Fenris an extra day. He could not tell if that was a bad thing or a good thing. Anders had said, “I’m going to go home and sleep. Are you free tomorrow night instead?” and he had replied, “Yes, Anders.” and that had been it.

If he meant to fight he should be wearing armor and sword both, but he did not want to. The last few weeks had been so good, maybe, even in disgrace, things would not be so bad. He had endured punishment and pain before. He would prostrate himself before the mage and hope.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Anders had not slept. He did try, but he could not quiet his mind. Leandra. Necromancy and blood magic. Blood mages everywhere. Nearly every apostate they met. Merrill. Kirkwall, the city as a whole, was sick. The veil was thin here, and demons hovered, waiting for a tiny foothold. Without Justice Anders would have left long ago. Might never have come at all. Karl ...Anders blamed himself still. Karl might have been safe had Anders never come. And Anders might have left after Karl’s death had Justice not been pushing for them to _do something_.

Instead, Anders stayed-Justice keeping him safe from demons looking for a way in-and did what he could. And what Anders could do, what everyone should be doing, was get mages out of Kirkwall. Did the Chantry not know how thin the veil was here? More likely they just didn’t care.

So, Anders and Justice-there was no difference between them when one was not fighting the other-Anders and Justice did not sleep. Instead they fretted. And then, when they had gone in circles for long enough, they got up and worked on their manifesto. Near dawn Anders’ body gave in and he dozed at his desk for a scant few hours. He woke mid-morning and spent a few hours healing, and then, some innate time sense telling him that the sun was setting, he shuttered the light and made his way up into the city.


	12. Chapter 12

Honestly, Anders had half expected Fenris to be a little angry with him. They hadn’t been out with Hawke together since this thing had started, and their interactions in Fenris’ mansion were different enough that what had once been a normal argument was now jarring and startling. Still, better their companions not know yet about their arrangement. Not until they spoke about what they wished to tell to whom.

Anders had not held back in defending all mages against the actions of a few sick individuals in one sick city any more than usual. And Fenris had not held back in defending himself against Anders. All perfectly justified. But knowing more about Fenris now, well, Fenris might also rightly expect Anders to have a more nuanced response than their usual shouting.

So, Anders had considered the possibility that Fenris might be angry with him, and then discarded that line of thought as something he couldn’t do anything about right now, along with everything else he was going in circles about.

What Anders had not expected, though in retrospect he should have at least considered the possibility, was that Fenris might be more scared than angry. Title, or no, Anders was currently filling the role of Fenris’ master, and Fenris did not have good experiences with masters. It didn’t matter if Anders had started things, or kept things going, or baited Fenris along. Fenris had all but called Anders a monster as bad as Quentin. Master Anders would be completely justified in punishing him most harshly.

The Anders he actually had, however, was horrified to realize Fenris had spent the last two days worrying, and Anders hadn’t done anything about it. Fenris was kneeling with his back to the fire, turned so the light from the flames showed his nude form to the best effect. His arms were behind his back, elbows touching, hands clasped, wrists between his feet. Despite the way he held his arms, his head was down. Anders could just see his face, and it was just as empty as it had been that first day.

“Fenris?”

“Yes, Anders.”

Fenris’ voice was as blank as that first day as well.

Anders came further into the room, closing and barring the door behind him. The weapon stand and Fenris’ sword were not where they usually stood. Anders leaned his staff in the corner instead and went to put his coat on the table, pulling off his tunic and dropping it on top without folding it. He didn’t bother with his pants or boots yet.

Coming around the side of the chairs Anders stopped, swaying in place. On one of the chairs was the bowl, full of water and rags. On the other were the whip, switch, and paddle Anders had been saving for much, much later. The chair directly in front of Fenris was draped with a clean sheet, obviously meant for Anders to sit in. Fuck.

Anders ignored the chair, instead taking two quick steps, dropping to his knees in front of Fenris, and opening his arms.

“C'mere.”

Fenris quickly shuffled forward on his knees, into the space between Anders’ legs. He could not hide his confusion from his face.

Anders settled one hand on the back of Fenris’ head and pulled it forward against his shoulder. “Relax.” He ran the back of his other hand down Fenris’ arms, and then pet back up between them with his fingers. “Arms around front,” he said, following the space between them back down with his fingers again.

Fenris pulled his arms around in front of him as quickly as he could, bringing his elbows and wrist together again there. Anders could feel him trying to force his body to relax, muscles letting go and then clenching back up again. Anders rubbed small circles in the small of his back. “Take me out of my pants and get me hard please.”

“Yes, Anders.”

Fenris’ hands shook undoing his laces. Anders had been trying to buy time. To show Fenris that everything would be ok. That didn’t seem to be working. They needed to talk. Maybe a little talking first, and then showing? He’d had plans for tonight. They would have to wait. Quick orgasms for them both, and then something more drawn out built out of Fenris’ preferences. Fenris would have to spend the night tonight, and then tomorrow morning, after they had both slept, they could talk more. Ressurence first, then sex, then reassuring sex, cuddling, sleeping, talking, more sex? Was that everything? Anders was half hard already. Panting lightly.

“You’re scared,” he said. He could feel Fenris tense under his hands, breath hitching. “You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not angry about anything, and I’m not going to punish you.” He turned his head to kiss Fenris’ ear, running the hand from the back of Fenris’ head down his neck and back, and the hand from his back around to gently take hold of his cock. “Use your other hand on my nipples. We’ll get both of us off quick here, and then I want to spend some time making you feel really really good. Okay?”

“Yes, Anders.” Fenris nodded against his chest, moving one of his hands up to pet lightly at Anders’ nipples. Rubbing, twisting, pinching a little, he’d had some practice with what Anders liked by now. Anders let his hand slide back up from Fenris’ back to his neck, hips rocking into the motion of Fenris’ hand. He was close. Close. Close. And over, head tipped back, sobbing.

He collected himself quickly, hand still moving fitfully up and down Fenris’ cock. “On your back,” he said, pushing Fenris back with his body, still supporting his head. Fenris went over backward, no resistance at all.

Anders sat back from him, using his second hand to fondle Fenris’ sack and balls, rubbing the sensitive skin behind them, still pumping his cock. Twisting now, up over the head and back down. Tighter. Faster. Watching his face. Fenris had his eyes closed, head tipped back, hands fisted by his side.

“Fenris. Cum for me now. C’mon babe. Give it to me. Let go.” Fenris’ hips studdered upward, into Anders’ grip, and then dropped. “That’s it. That’s right. Your body wants to cum. Fuck my hand. Take it. Cum for me. You’re so beautiful like this. So good.” Fenris’ head went back further, mouth open, as he let go of his control, hips snapping up again and again. A couple seconds later cum shot out of his cock. Anders pointed it up his chest and kept pumping until no more came out, and Fenris dropped his hips back to the ground.

“Look at me,” Anders said, and started licking his hand clean as soon as Fenris opened his eyes. “Hands above your head. Hold still for me now.”

“Yes, Anders.” Fenris scrambled to comply.

Anders sucked each finger off one by one, then licked off his palm. Hand clean he rested it on Fenris’ thigh and leaned slowly forward, keeping eye contact for as long as he could. Face almost to Fenris’ stomach, he looked down and chased a line of cum from his chest down to his groin. Fenris hissed. Anders looked up at him and grinned, then looked down and licked up another line. He found a spot of cum and sucked it up, lapping at the skin under it. Two more spots, licking and sucking. Another line of cum, groin up to his belly button. Anders licked into it, fucking it slowly with his tongue, earning another hiss. Fenris’ stomach muscles tensed.

Fenris’ cock was half soft now, leaning to the side against his thigh, one last smear of cum along the thigh under its head. Anders leaned back to free his other hand, reaching forward to hold Fenris’ cock out of the way so he could lick the thigh clean as well, and then turning his head and opening his mouth over the end, sucking lightly, and tonguing the slit. He sat back and set his hands neatly into his lap. Fenris’ eyes and mouth were open, watching him, every muscle tense from holding still. Anders licked his lips, and Fenris mirrored him.

“On the bed. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Yes, Anders.” Fenris all but ran to follow his instructions, surging to his feet, and stumbling as he took the corner too fast.

Anders waited a few moments, then stood up, picked up the bowl of water, and followed Fenris at a more reasonable pace.


	13. Chapter 13

Anders thought Fenris might be feeling better now, but it was hard to tell. Fenris had such strong control over his body and emotions. The amount of eye contact had gone up exponentially these last few weeks, and Anders was sure that it wasn’t because Fenris thought he was going to be punished if he didn’t do it, but because he knew he’d be rewarded if he did. But if today was any indication he still didn’t trust Anders not to hurt him at all.

The hard part was, there wasn’t anything fast he could do about it. He couldn’t just dump a bunch of magic into it and have it knit back together under his hands. All he could do was keep doing what he’d been doing and hope the weight of it eventually took. Fenris had consented to be vulnerable for him, and maybe that would be enough of a chance.

He was even more vulnerable today than most days. Trying, Anders thought, to direct the way things went by emphasizing vulnerability in a place where he could take it, instead of the anticipated direction of Anders’ wrath. Trying to minimize his pain as much as possible. As obedient and eager as he was seeming Anders couldn’t tell if he believed he was safe now, of if he was still bracing for the blow from Anders’ hand. There were so many ways other than whips Anders might punish him.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Anders’ hands were a little sticky on the side of the bowl, his stomach a mess of cum, slowly getting tacky. He squeezed out a rag and wiped himself down. He could see Fenris out of the corner of his eye, kneeling on the bed. He looked relaxed. Anders dropped the rag next to the bowl and pulled out another one. “Here,” he said, holding it out flat, “give me one of your hands.”

Fenris liked having his hands washed. Not that he’d told Anders, but Anders could tell. The way he relaxed just a little bit. How quickly he gave Anders his hand. The slightly unfocused look his eyes sometimes got. They hadn’t done this often enough for it to be a ritual, but Anders thought maybe he should make an effort to turn it into one. If Fenris found this calming Anders wanted to take advantage of it.

He spent a while on each hand today, slowly twisting the cloth around each finger, gently running it over the palm and wrist of each hand, and massaging a little as he went. When he was done a little of the tension had gone out of Fenris’ shoulders, and Anders felt calmer too.

Anders sat down on the side of the bed and started to take off his boots. “In a second I’ll have a question for you. It doesn’t have a right or wrong answer, but it is something I want you to think about before you reply, and it might be something you find hard. I know I usually ask you for eye contact for this sort of thing, but it’s ok for you to hide your face here.”

Finally naked Anders settled himself against the pillows at the head of the bed, legs splayed open. “Come sit here and lean against me where you can hide your face if you need to.” Fenris complied, leaning one side against Anders’ chest, hands in this lap. Anders settled one hand into the small of Fenris’ back, and cupped the other under Fenris’ joined hands. He started rubbing Fenris’ back. This question was hard for him too. He needed to get this just right or there was no chance of a true answer at all.

“I want to get us both off again tonight, but I want you to decide how you most want to reach orgasm. Pick something that is a favorite of yours. Something we’ve done or something we haven’t tried yet. It doesn’t matter so long as you can tell me what it is. I’ll figure out a way to make it work within my own constraints, so there really isn’t any wrong answer. Ok? Do you understand?”

Fenris had turned his face down and into Anders’ chest. He nodded a little. “Yes Anders.” He seemed relaxed still, so Anders just kept rubbing his back for a little while, giving him time to think.

“Do you have an idea of what you’d like to do?” he asked eventually.

Fenris turned further into his chest, hands fisting slightly around each other where Anders had them cupped, and nodded faintly. “Yes Anders.”

“Telling someone that you want something is hard, isn’t it,” Anders said. He took his hand out from under Fenris’ and brought it around to the back of his head instead, petting his hair and holding him against his shoulder. “Let me see if I can help. Is it something you and I have done?” Fenris shook his head no. “Is it something you and Hawke did?” Fenris nodded, and then slowly pulled back from Anders’ shoulder.

Fenris looked briefly at Anders’ face, and then back down at this hands. Anders had brought both hands to the small of his back, just holding him now. He waited while Fenris took several deep breaths. “He said he wanted to be balls deep in my ass.” He held his wrists and elbows together in front of him again, as he’d done earlier in front of the fire, hunching into himself.

“Ok,” Anders said, bringing both hands up to cup around Fenris’ face and tip it up until he could see Fenris’ eyes. “We can do that. You want me inside of you? To fuck you?”

“Yes Anders.” Fenris did not resist having his head moved, but he kept his eyes down.

Anders ran one of his thumbs over Fenris’ lips. “Can you say that for me? I want you inside of me? Or, maybe, I want you to fuck me? Can you do that for me?”

Fenris licked his lips. Anders could feel the tension in his neck. “I want,” he closed his eyes tight. “I want you,” he was leaning forward now, trying to get his face back down to Anders’ chest. Anders let him. “I want you to fuck me,” came out all in a rush, muffled by Anders’ shoulder.

“Perfect,” Anders said. “Beautiful.” He turned and kissed Fenris’ ear, and then spoke into it, letting as much desire show in his voice as he could. “I want to fuck you. I want to bury myself inside of you. I want to stretch you open with my fingers, and explore you until you feel like you’re going to come apart, and then I want to sink myself into your heat and bring us both to orgasm. I want to feel you cum viseing around me while I’m hilted in your ass. Does that sound good? Do you think you’d like that?” 

Anders could feel Fenris open his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against Anders’ skin. “Yes Anders,” he said. He sounded a little breathless now.

“Good,” Anders said. “Next question. Do you want me to be on top, or you?”

Fenris turned his face completely into Anders’ chest, but Anders could feel his breath moist against his skin. After a few seconds he leaned back a little so that he could speak. “You,” he said, then leaned back a little more, finally looking into Anders’ face. “Hawke wanted the other.” His face was grim, jaw set.

Anders smiled at him. “Ok. One last question, and then we’re going to start in with my fingers, your ass, and the salve. Do you want me to pull out before I cum, or do you want me to cum inside of you?”

“Inside? Why would... Why would you pull out?”

“Sometimes people don’t like getting the cum back out again later? Sometimes it hurts.”

“Oh,” Fenris looked down at his hands. Anders wasn’t sure, but he thought Fenris might be blushing. “Inside. I wish to remember you later.”

All Anders’ air went out in a whoosh, and his cock jumped, getting harder. “Right,” he said, not looking for Fenris’ eyes this time. “That is,” he looked up with a grin. “That is really hot.” He reached down and picked up the salve from next to the bed. They were going to need more of it soon. Maybe he could come up with an even better formula. He’d have to think about what properties he wanted it to have. “On your back. Let’s get a pillow under your ass and start getting you all slicked up.”


	14. Chapter 14

Fenris could not let himself hope. Could not let himself trust. He knew how to be a good, obedient, eager slave. He knew how to read what people wanted, and to be that thing. But Anders kept changing the rules, and he could feel himself letting go of his cation. The more he trusted. The more he hoped. The more of himself he exposed and handed over to Anders, the more Anders could hurt him. That he did not think Anders would take advantage of that ability was just one more danger amidst many.

Why had he told Anders he wanted to remember him later? He hadn’t known what kind of reaction he might get. For that matter, why did he want to remember Anders? What made him desire the feel of Anders cum dripping back out of him? There had been a plug once, keeping him full of someone else’s cum. He’d been told it was a gift, carrying around that reminder. Proof of his desirability. For some reason he wanted Anders to desire him.

And Anders did seem to want him. More dangerous speculation, but he could not escape it. Only, somehow Anders seemed to be able to tell when Fenris was being a good slave, and when he was being something closer to himself. In darker moments he suspected blood magic, but blood mages cannot heal. If he let himself examine things he imagined Anders knew which parts were the most real because he’d faked things himself in the past. Fenris tried not to let himself examine things that closely. Tried to forget any such idea. Sympathy made him vulnerable too.

Even now Anders could break him apart if he wanted to. What Hawke could not accomplish in three years of commands and longing Anders had accomplished in three weeks of care and gentleness. If Anders decided to turn on him Fenris was sure he would break. If only he still knew how to just give in. It was inevitable, and he was tired of fighting. And yet, hope and weakness intertwined, he did not think Anders wanted him to submit. Not in that way. Not so that he lost himself. Anders was slowly taking him apart and putting him back together again, and Fenris had no idea what shape he would be when Anders was done.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fenris let Anders guide him onto his back, like he had been earlier, and lifted for the pillow. He put his hands above his head again, holding still, trying not to think. Trying to just act, and react. To neither hope, nor fear.

He had never been taken in this position before. He wondered what it would feel like. It stood to reason though, with how obsessed Anders was with eye contact, that he would want Fenris on his back.

“Fenris?”

He was drawn back into his awareness of himself. “Yes Anders?”

“You went away for a bit there. Are you ok?”

“Yes Anders. I apologize. What would you have of me?”

“No. It’s ok. I just want to make sure I’m not doing anything that’s uncomfortable for you. Is this position ok?”

“Yes Anders.” The mage persisted in asking such questions. As if it mattered. As if he could say anything other than yes.

“Here,” Anders said, “Give me your hands. You don’t need to hold still for this like you did earlier.”

Fenris brought his hands forward. Anders pulled one down and cupped it around Fenris’ cock. “I know your control is very good, but I’m going to try to push up against the edge of it today. I want you to have your hand free to hold yourself off if you need to. I’ll let you cum as soon as possible after I do, but I want you to wait for me again.” He rubbed lightly at Fenris’ wrist. “You can hold yourself however you think is best. You don’t need to keep your hand exactly how I put it or anything.” Fenris resettled his hand. “Just let me know if you’re getting close, ok? I’m not trying to torture you, just enhance your eventual orgasm a bit.”

“Yes Anders.” He did not like the reminder of Anders and torture. What would torture by Anders’ hand be like? He did not want to find out. He could not help but to believe Anders did not plan to torture him. And yet, how much worse would it hurt if this were the last kind thing? If after this things changed? He could not afford to speculate. Hope and fear tangled around him, choking him. There was nothing he could do, save let go. There was no going back.

When Anders took his other hand he wondered where he would put it. At first he thought Anders would cup this one around his cock as well, but instead he held on and simply rested their joined hands against the inside of Fenris’ thigh, squeezing it slightly, and then petting Fenris’ palm with his thumb a couple of time. “OK?” he asked, looking up.

“Yes Anders.” On the other hand, even if Anders was not trying to torture him he might yet succeed if something did not happen soon.

Anders grinned at him. Fenris wondered, again, if Anders knew what he was thinking, and how. And then his thoughts scattered at the first slick touch of a finger, his own fingers twitching in Anders’ hand. Anders was kneeling between his legs. He had not seen him open the salve, or slick his fingers with it.

Anders ran his finger gently up and down the cleft of Fenris’ ass a few times, still teasing, whether he meant to or not, and then, on the next pass, pressed down. Still, he did not penetrate, instead rubbing firmly over the puckered skin of his entrance, back and forth just over it. “Relax,” he said, “You have your stomach muscles all tensed up. You can move if you want to. We’re not trying to fight your body here.”

Fenris tipped his hips, pushing against Anders’ touch, trying to open and relax at the same time. He used to have so much control over these muscles. The tip of Anders finger slipped inside and they both froze.

Slowly, Fenris let himself relax again. Not pushing, just accepting. Anders pushed forward slightly with his finger, and Fenris’ body tensed again. Every time he relaxed Anders pushed forward a little more, until the entire finger was all the way inside. Anders twisted it slightly from side to side. He was grinning. “Ok?” he asked, petting Fenris’ palm again, holding eye contact.

“Yes Anders.” This was nice. Letting someone else do this. Not feeling rushed. His cock was soft, cupped in his hand. Anders would pull his finger out, push his cock in, and fuck him into the bed soon. That always got him hard. Everything was fine. There was no hurry. He let himself close his eyes.

Anders did pull his finger out. But then he pushed it back in, slippery again. More salve? Fenris was startled from his musings by a jolt of pleasure. Anders had curled his finger slightly and was tapping against something. It was maddening. His cock jumped with each tap. “Found it,” Anders said.

“What?” His stomach muscles jumped. He couldn’t tell which way he wanted to move. He wanted it to stop, and to go on forever. He was getting hard now, but there was no way this would ever bring him to completion. “Please,” he begged, but he wasn’t sure for what.

“How’s this?” Anders asked, and then stopped tapping and just pressed. Fenris rocked himself against Anders’ hand, fucking himself on his finger. The fingertip rubbed lightly back and forth over the spot inside of him.

“Yes,” Fenris said, opening his eyes again, looking for Anders’ face.

Anders was grinning at him again. He squeezed Fenris’ hand. Squeezing back, Fenris realized. He loosened his hold a little. He wanted more pressure. He was still so far from orgasm.

“I’m going to pull my finger out and push back in with two,” Anders said. “Ok?”

“Yes Anders.” Two?

Two was good. Two fingers pressing was ...Fenris held still, rocked slightly experimentally, held still again. He had to close his eyes again to pay attention to how it felt.

“More?” Anders asked.

More. Yes. “Yes Anders.” Fenris could feel himself nodding. “Please.”

Anders laughed, and the pressure increased slowly until Fenris had to move his hips again. Rocking away from too much, and then back into it. He was holding himself tightly now, finally getting close. The pressure slacked off, and tiny sound escaped the back of Fenris’ throat. He stilled his hips, trembling.

“If I press too hard it will hurt,” Anders said. Fenris wondered if ...no, no thinking of his past here. Not now. Whatever Anders was doing it did not hurt. “Do you want another finger or my cock next?”

More pressure and rubbing, or fullness? He was so close, and Anders wanted to be inside him when he came. “Your cock,” he said. There was a jolt of pleasure, Anders curling his hands involuntarily at his words. He knew how this worked. “I want your cock inside of me, Anders.” Anders curled his fingers further, and slowly, slowly, pulled them out.


	15. Chapter 15

This was new, Anders thought. Different in a way other things had not been yet. It wasn’t that they were in a bed, or even that there was no rush. The only thing different between this and the hundreds of times he had done this before was that this time he had no fear of discovery. He wasn’t being hunted. The room had a door and a lock and belonged to someone. His mind could be completely on this one thing. It startled him how much difference that made.

“Knees up,” he said, and Fenris pulled his knees up against his body. Anders rubbed a finger gently around the pucker, teasing just the tip of it inside one more time. Fenris’ breath hitched. Teasing him was an incredible rush. To get in underneath all of that control. This was enough for today though. Some other day he could take the hours he wanted to take now. Fenris had to trust him to keep his promises first or else is would be more torture than teasing.

Fenris had his head back and his eyes shut. His skin was suffused with pink from the tips of his ears down his chest, like striations in the sandstone cliffs outside the city, like gold and rose gold, like ...Fenris opened his eyes, fogged with pleasure and need, “please,” and Anders came back to himself. He could moon after Fenris’ beauty later. He had a job to do now.

Anders scooped out a handful of salve and, hissing in pleasure as he touched himself, covered his cock thoroughly. He flicked his eyes back and forth between himself and Fenris’ face. Every time he looked up Fenris was watching him, biting his lip, or licking across it, or panting. Now that they’d made it here Anders didn’t think either of them was going to last very long at all. Maybe next time he would have to cum twice first. One of the things that made this a less favorite activity was how quickly it was always over. Coated as completely as he could manage, Anders took himself in hand, lined the head of his cock up, and pressed.

“Maker,” Anders said. There was no resistance. Fenris was tight, but his body did not clamp down like it had at first with Anders’ fingers. So much control. Anders held Fenris’ eyes and kept pushing forward until he was all the way in, balls snug against Fenris’ ass. Warm, tight, he wanted to push Fenris’ legs back and rut hopelessly against him. He wanted to let his body take over.

Instead, “You can let your legs down now,” Anders said, squeezing Fenris’ hand slightly. It seemed important somehow to keep holding on, to not let go until he had to. Fenris let his legs down slowly, and Anders leaned forward over him, bringing their joined hands up above Fenris’ head, fingers linked, pinning Fenris to the bed. Their faces were close enough together now for Anders to feel Fenris’ breath across his lips, cool where he had just licked them. He slanted a kiss across Fenris’ mouth and then slid the kiss up Fenris’ cheek to his ear. “I’m going to start fucking you now. Hold on just a little longer and then it will be your turn.”

“Yes Anders.” Yes like an agreement, rather than an acknowledgement. Yes like eagerness. Yes like desire.

Anders braced himself on his forearms, watching Fenris’ face, and began to use his thighs and hips and stomach to slowly build a rhythm. Short gentle thrust at first, building until he was pulling out a little more than half way every time, but had sped up barely at all. Letting himself feel each inch. Teasing himself, and Fenris along with him.

It couldn’t last. Fenris’ face was pained now. “Please,” he begged. “Please!”

Anders answered him. “Soon! I promise. Soon.” He sped up, letting himself push into each down stroke.

Fenris had planted his feet beside Anders’ legs and was thrusting up to meet him now. “Please,” he said again. “Anders, please.

“Please.”

“Yes,” Anders said, letting himself go. Losing his rhythm in favor of meeting force with force.

“Please!”

Anders covered the next please with his mouth and muffled his scream into it.

He kept rocking, slowing down just a little, leaning back, and brought his free hand down to Fenris’ cock, covering Fenris’ hand with his own. Fenris’ eyes were wild. The muscles in his neck corded with the way he held his head. “Cum,” Anders said, pulling their hands up Fenris’ cock, and then pushing back down. It didn’t even take a full pass. Fenris’ back arched, thrusting up into Anders’ hand, and back down onto his cock, rocking frantically between the two as he came.

It was perfect, Anders thought hazley. Watching pleasure wash over Fenris’ face was quickly becoming one of his favorite things, and feeling it at the same time. Feeling Fenris clench around him, still buried inside, still mostly hard, still chasing the ends of his own pleasure, he nearly came a second time.

Eventually they slowed. Fenris’ eyes were closed, a small smile hovered on the corner of his lips. Anders watched it until it went away, and Fenris opened his eyes again. He looked like he wanted to be worried, but didn’t have the energy for it any more. Anders reached forward and smoothed a finger across his eyebrow. “Want a bath, or should I just get us mostly wiped clean, and worry about changing sheets tomorrow?”

A confused furrow appeared between Fenris’ eyes. He was looking across Anders’ shoulder now, instead of directly at him. Trying to figure out what the “right” answer was, most likely. Anders tried to keep his face neutral. “I want you to sleep here with me tonight, please. Ok?”

“Yes Anders,” Fenris said, his face blanking again.

Anders was still holding his hand. He squeezed it now. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms, and wake up with you still there. Let’s just wipe down tonight. We can talk about baths tomorrow. Maybe after more fucking?”

Fenris carefully squeezed back. “Yes Anders.”

-_-_-_-_-_-

Anders could just reach his trowsers. And then, using them to start the cleanup process, pulled out and could reach the bowl and cloths. Eventually he had to let go of Fenris’ hand. It felt like a loss, like a suddenly enormass distance. Gently wiping off Fenris’ hands again made things better though. Fenris was docile. Quiet. His eyes kept opening, and then slowly sliding closed. He reacted only once, when Anders ran the cloth down the cleft of his ass. “Please,” he said, twisting his body away.

“Shhh,” Anders replied. “I’m not going to try to get anything out from inside. Just cleaning you off a bit. Ok?”

“Yes Anders.” Fenris turned back into the cloth, laying still for the rest of it.

Anders wasn’t sure if Fenris was still awake or not when he finally had himself clean as well. His eyes were closed, hands resting gently on his stomach, head toward the wrong end of the bed.

Anders picked up a pillow and set it down next to Fenris’ head. Fenris opened his eyes. “Is this how you usually sleep? On your back like this?”

“Yes Anders.”

“Okay,” Anders said, laying down next to Fenris on his side, and slid his arm across Fenris’ waist. “You can get up again if you need to, just promise you’ll come back. I want to wake up with you in my arms like this. Okay?”

“Yes Anders.” Fenris closed his eyes. His breathing slowed. Anders watched him sleep until he fell asleep himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't expect to be back to a once a day schedule for a while, if at all. I have one more chapter written, but not edited, and I'm about to go on vacation. I will post again no later than a week and a few days from now, but I can't promise anything sooner.
> 
> If I'm lucky I'll manage to build up a back log over the course of the vacation. If I'm unlucky I'll be eaten by a moose while I'm in Canada and you'll never hear from me again. I promise not to taunt any moose.


	16. Chapter 16

Fenris woke disoriented and groggy an hour later, and an hour after that, and an hour after that. His body screamed at him to move. To get to the foot of the bed where he belonged. To the floor in front of the fire, or standing guard leaning against the wall outside the room. He could not remember ever spending the night in someone’s arms. Every time he woke he had to remember yet again that Anders wanted him to stay.

Just before dawn he woke and could not fall asleep again. Anders had been restless as well, curling around him sometimes, and sometimes touching him just barely. This time Anders had a hand curled around his upper arm and nothing else. Fenris slid easily out of his hold and got up.

He visited the privy, and then went to his room in search of breakfast and his clothing. Small beer, dried fruit, a bit of cured meat, some cheese, a pair of short pants he sometimes slept in. He put it all in a basket and brought it back down to Anders’ room. He did not know when Anders might wake. He needed to return to the bed soon.

Anders was still asleep when he returned, on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes and the other flat across the bed. He set the basket on the table, brushed off his feet, and crawled carefully back into bed, curling into the space beneath Anders’ arm. Anders rolled toward him and dragged him close with the arm that had been over his eyes, burying his face in Fenris’ hair. “Hi,” he said to the top of Fenris’ head.

“Good morning Anders,” Fenris replied, “I apologize if I woke you, or if I was not here when you woke.”

“Hmmmm,” Anders said. “S’all good. Stay now. Let me wake up a bit.”

Fenris willed his body to relax, and fought not to think. Would he be punished now? Had Anders woken and found him gone? What about their fight? Would Anders insist on a bath?

“Hey,” Anders said and started to rub his back. Fenris forced himself to relax again. Weakness, showing fear.

“Would you like breakfast ...Anders?” Fenris swallowed the first three names he meant to end his question with. Master. Mage. Messere. He did not look up.

Anders threaded his fingers through Fenris’ hair. “Sure. I have some bread stored here. In the cupboard.”

“I brought down fruit, and meat, and cheese,” Fenris said.

“There’s a plate with the bread,” Anders answered. “Put everything on it and bring it back to bed please?”

“Yes Anders.” Fenris went to do as he was told.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Anders couldn’t help staring at Fenris’ ass as he worked to put together a plate of food, one hip cocked and then the other. Anders thought he might be cutting the food into smaller pieces. It gave him ideas, many of them heated. He could feel himself getting hard.

Anders had gotten up briefly while Fenris was out of the room, but had crawled back into bed and let himself fall back to sleep instead of starting his day, not wanting Fenris to come back and find him awake. Fenris was already worried, no need to add to that. Now Anders sat up again and mounded all their bedding up against the wall at the head of the bed, retrieved the pot of salve, and settled himself into place just as Fenris returned with the food and beer.

“Here,” Anders said, “let me take those.” He set the mug on the bedpost, conveniently flat, and the plate on the bed next to it, and then turned back to Fenris. “Come sit in my lap, facing me. I want to share this with you.” Fenris crawled forward.

Once Fenris was settled Anders ran his fingers up into his hair and started kissing him, holding his head still, rocking his hips against Fenris’ ass. Fenris opened up into the kiss, settling his hands on Anders shoulders.

Once he was hard enough Anders ran one hand down Fenris’ back, down the cleft of his ass, and started teasing at his hole. He was still mostly stretched from last night. A little salve and patience and they would be fine. Anders groped around for the salve pot one handed and slicked himself up. “Ok?” Anders asked, finally pulling away from Fenris’ mouth.

“Yes Anders.” Fenris nodded slightly, his forehead rested against Anders.

Anders lined himself up and slowly started to guide Fenris down.

“Mmmmmm,” Fenris said. “Anders. Yes.”

“Like that?” Anders asked. Fenris was half hard now, and nearly fully seated.

“Yes Anders,” Fenris said. “I enjoy being filled with you. I like feeling you inside of me. Please fuck me. Please!”

Anders laughed, smiling. Dirty talk. A little prompted maybe, but for all that it sounded genuine as well. “In a little while, maybe,” he said. “Right now we’re going to eat breakfast.” He wiped his hand off on the sheets next to their legs, and then used his other hand to pull their breakfast closer. What to try first?

Fenris let himself sink down the rest of the way all at once, startling Anders out of his musings. Maker that felt good. Nearly as good as being in someone’s mouth. They would have to try something more vigorous someday, but right now Anders wanted to draw things out long enough to both eat breakfast and have a conversation. Locked together like this Fenris could feel proof of Anders’ desire for him, and could not retreat. It wasn’t the best solution, but Anders only had some much to work with.

“Do you have a favorite fruit here?” Anders asked.

“Yes Anders,” Fenris said.

Well, I guess I deserved that, Anders thought. “Which one?” he clarified.

“Apples,” Fenris said.

“Hands on your knees,” Anders said, and picked up a piece of dried apple and put it into his own mouth. Fenris dropped his hands to his knees, sitting up a little. The movement rocked them against each other just a little, and they both started. Anders grinned, and then guided Fenris forward into a kiss, passing the apple into his mouth, and then pulling back.

Fenris blinked at him, and then carefully chewed and swallowed.

“That’s right,” Anders said, still grinning. He took a piece of something else for himself, and then held a piece of bread smeared with cheese up to Fenris’ mouth while he was chewing. Fenris opened his mouth and took it gently from his fingers.

Bits of meat, various pieces of dried fruit, Anders gave all the apples pieces to Fenris, alternating between feeding Fenris, and eating things himself. Eventually he stopped eating to take a few sips from the mug. Small beer he noted, low enough in alcohol that Justice didn’t mind. Some beer spilled down Fenris’ chin when Anders tried to pass it from his own mouth into Fenris’. Anders spent a while licking his neck and chin clean again.

When the plate was about half empty Anders smoothed his other hand down and around one of Fenris’ butt cheeks, and rubbed lightly at the place where they were joined, leaning his forehead against Fenris’ again, letting his breathing speed up. “You were so worried last night,” he said. “Was that about the fight we had when we were helping Hawke, or something else?”

Fenris went stiff, hunching forward against Anders. “Please,” he said, in a whisper. “It will not happen again. Please.”

“I want it to happen again,” Anders said. “I want us to keep fighting like that in front of the others. I’m not angry about it, and I’m not going to punish you. You are safe with me. You don’t need to be afraid.

“I know,” Anders took a deep breath. He wished someone had been able to promise this to him. He could feel Fenris shaking his muscles were clenched so hard. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise you can trust me. I’m not going to punish you now, or ever. I only ever want to make you feel good.

“And I do want us to keep fighting,” Anders said. “For one, you’re really smart. You make me think. I have to work hard to argue with you. You make my arguments with others stronger.

“More importantly, if we stop fighting the others will know that something is up, and Hawke will know that they know. I think if we’re going to tell people we should be careful about it and do it deliberately. I don’t know how he’d feel about seeing us getting along, but I get the feeling he wouldn’t like it.”

Fenris was more relaxed now, leaning against Anders’ chest. He nodded. Anders pet the back of his head.

“And finally, and this does not leave this room, so don’t you dare attribute this to me later, but Kirkwall is a really fucked up city. This place is a horrible example and I hate it. There are demons and blood mages everywhere, and the more magic and death there is here the worse it’s going to get. If we limit your arguments to just mages in Kirkwall some of them are valid.

“But, see, the more mages that are here the worse it is, and the Chantry just doesn’t care. It’s a horrible place for mages, unless you want them all to turn to blood magic or be possessed so you can kill them. I’m trying to get mages out of Kirkwall before they turn. I think it’s bad for them to stay locked up, and I don’t want to argue about that with you here, but I also think it’s bad for Kirkwall for them to stay.”

Anders let Fenris stay leaning against him for a while, rocking his hips a little occasionally, sliding in and out of Fenris’ ass a fraction, just enough to stay hard. He wanted Fenris to have some time to think. Not too much time, but enough to process things a little. Maybe enough for him to at least stop worrying about what was going to happen today.

“Here,” Anders said eventually. “Open up. This is the last piece of apple.”

Fenris leaned back and opened his mouth.

“Okay?” Anders asked.

“Yes Anders.”

“Do you understand about the fighting?”

“Yes Anders.” Fenris nodded.

Anders fed him another piece of bread and cheese, and then held the mug for him while he drank.

“Still hungry?” Anders asked.

“I am full,” Fenris replied.

“Yeah you are,” Anders said, pulling out a little and rocking back in. Fenris usually avoided answering questions he wanted to say no to at all. Something other than yes was wonderful.

A smile hovered at the corner of Fenris’ mouth again.

Anders smiled back, and smooth his hand down Fenris’ ass, touching them both. “Gonna fuck you now, nice and slow. Lean forward against my shoulder, and let me know if you start to get close.”

“Yes Anders.” Fenris leaned forward, and then _relaxed_.

Anders set the slowest rhythm he could manage, letting his thumb rub up and down his length as he slid in and out. “Fucking you is better than I remember fucking being,” he said. “I’m glad you suggested it.”

Fenris licked his shoulder.

Anders laughed, breathless. “Yeah? You maybe want to do this again sometime? I have a whole list of things to try with you you know, but this all has me adding a bunch of things to it. You like feeling full? Stuffed? Stretched out?”

“Yes Anders.” Fenris nodded against his shoulder.

Anders pressed up slightly with his thumb. Not breaching, just enough to be a suggestion, an idea.

“Anders,” Fenris gasped. “Please.”

Anders laughed, and dropped his hand away. “Fuck. Okay. Hold on. I’m going to speed up so I can cum. I’ll, I’ll bite you when I go off, and you can cum then? Maker. Does that work?”

“Yes Anders,” Fenris said.

Anders settled his hands onto Fenris’ hips and sped up. “Yes. Yes yes yes.” He buried his face into Fenris’ neck and bit down, holding Fenris down against him. Yes!

Anders could feel the entirety of Fenris’ body tense, and then relax, cum warm and damp between them. He opened his mouth and began to lick and kiss the place where he had bit down. “Fuck.”

“Yes Anders,” Fenris said, nodding.

Maybe he had a sense of humor after all. Anders certainly found himself laughing here more than he ever did in any other part of his current life. Now he just smiled, tired all over again. “So, tell me why you don’t like your bath tub.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fenris huffed against Anders’ throat, feeling annoyed, and then surprised at his daring. “There are runes to keep the water warm,” he explained. “They hurt.”

“Huh,” Anders said. “Can’t you just chip them out?”

Fenris did not answer, letting Anders come up with the reply on his own.

“Well,” Anders said, after a while, “nothing we can do about it today either way. I do want to rinse off with more than just a cloth though. I’ll dump buckets of water over you if you’ll dump buckets of water over me?”

“Yes Anders,” Fenris said. “Do you wish to bathe now?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

When he thought back to this day later Fenris was startled to realize that the very best part of it hadn't been the sex, but the washing off after it. Anders slowly working his fingers through Fenris' hair. Anders making a handful of soap bubbles and then sliding his hands down Fenris' chest. Anders carefully shielding Fenris' eyes while he poured cups of water over his head. It shouldn't have surprised him. Having Anders wipe him off with a nice damp rag felt good too. But the hair washing in particular just felt so good, and also so peaceful, that of all his memories that was the best one.

The sex had been good too. Anders kept surprising him with sex. He knew so many different ways for them to touch, and all of them felt good. And then they'd done this thing Fenris had done before and knew his body liked, and it turned out to be so much better than he had ever known. Feeling full was good. Feeling full while at the edge of orgasm, and knowing, _knowing_ that he would get to cum soon, Fenris wanted to do it again now.

“I’m going to pick up the room a little, and then go back down to my clinic,” Anders said. “You don’t need to stay here any more if you don’t want to. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I’ll want you to spend the night with me again, so plan on that. Okay?”

“Yes Anders,” Fenris said. “I will go out now, and see you tomorrow night.” He felt happy. He wondered if Anders could tell.

Anders stopped him at the top of the stairs up from the basement and drew him into a kiss. It was gentle and brief.

“Bye,” Anders said. The he went into their room and closed the door. Fenris stood in the hall looking at the door for several minutes before heading up to his room to put on his armor. He could get his clothing out of the room tomorrow.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fenris went to visit Hawke. He didn’t know what sort of comfort he might offer, but surely the man must be hurting, losing his mother that way.

The conversation might have gone better. Still, after a while of sitting together in silence Hawke did decide to leave the room and head down to the Hanged Man. Fenris was sure spending time with their other friends would do him some good. Maybe Varric would know what to say to him. Varric was good with words.

It was only after Fenris left Hawke's room that he realized he could feel Anders' cum slowly seeping out of his ass and dripping down the inside of his leg. It was warm, and damp, and he couldn't stop smiling.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for slightly more explicit mentions of past abuse, physical, mental, and sexual in nature.
> 
> Also, some blood and injury.

Anders never slept well. If he wasn't woken up by nightmares it was only because he wasn't asleep. Some nights Justice insisted they work on planning escape routes and writing up pamphlets until he couldn't feel his hands. More so now when they only had every other night. The clinic was quieter now too. People occasionally came in late at night, but not as frequently as a few months ago. Maybe it was the season? There didn’t seem to be any fewer people in Darktown.

It didn't matter though, because apparently Fenris chased both nightmares and Justice away. Or maybe it was the sex? Either way, every-other night Anders was getting enough sleep. Still going to bed late, sure. But then, also getting up late, and having a nice leisurely start to his day. He ate breakfast. He took a sponge bath, spent a little time cleaning the room, stopped off to see Lirene, and generally got home around noon.

He thought sometimes about spending all his nights at the mansion. The kitchen was right next to their sex room, and it wasn't that dirty. It even had a huge sturdy table. He could clean it up a bit more, set up all his writing supplies there, and have a nice bed and a way to wash himself right nearby when he eventually couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. And maybe Fenris would come sleep with him more often.

Nothing changed though until Fenris got hurt.

It started out just like any other off day. He'd gone to bed late, and woken up early. Lit the light with his breakfast bread in hand, and promptly had a stream of people with coughs and pains trickling in. It was just busy enough that he couldn't write, but just quiet enough that Justice kept hoping that they would be able to take some time to soon. Honestly, he wanted to go work on the pamphlet they'd made one of last night as well. He felt it contained his best arguments yet, and the more he could draw up to distribute the better. And then the first injury came in.

The man wasn't conscious, and the two other men carrying didn't know who he was or what had happened to him, but Anders was pretty sure someone had stuck a sword right through him. He had personal experience with that. It wasn't pleasant. The man would live, but it had been a close thing. He was lucky he'd stumbled down here, and fallen in front of actual honest people. Not that Anders didn't suspect they'd taken the man's coin purse, but at least they hadn't left him to die.

After that everything went downhill fast. Most of the injuries he saw were not so severe, but there were so many of them he was overwhelmed. After the second and third he switched to gut sutures and a needle for all but the worst, with a quick blast of magic to stave off any infection, and admonishments to his patients to come back to him if the wound turned funny colors or started to smell bad.

It took a shockingly long time for him to realize that it wasn't just one or two rough Qunari rebelling, but the whole of the community down at the docks. That they were, in fact, finally invading the city just like everyone had expected them to when they landed. Long enough for the primary injuries to have changed to twisted ankles and burns as more and more people tried to flee the city. Not until one of his patients told him the Qunari were hunting people down in squads, and seemed to be targeting the wealthy above all. After that whenever his mind was free from healing he found himself worrying about Fenris, because Hawke had to be in the middle of this, and Hawke always took Fenris with him when he was dealing with the Qunari.

He couldn't leave though. Even with help, and help eventually did arrive, he was only just staying on top of things. Not everyone there was from Darktown. Anyone who could was fleeing into the sewers, and people who knew where and what he was were directing others to him. So maybe it was good there were so many of them he'd nearly stopped using magic. Too many eyes were dangerous.

He was glad of it for other reasons later, because well into the night, as things had finally started to slow a little, Donnic, of all people, showed up. He had a couple other guards with him, but they'd all been smart enough to leave anything with insignia behind, and he was out of breath and covered in a fine misting of blood droplets.

“Fenris?” Anders said, and knew from Donnic’s eyes that he’d given them away. He was right though. He hated being right.

“He’ll live,” Donnic said, “but Aveline says he needs you. I’ll walk you back up there. These two have training patching people up. I’ll leave them to help out here if that’s ok.”

Anders barely heard him. If Aveline was sending Donnic to find him the whole living thing might depend on him getting there. There was no love lost between him and Aveline, that was for sure. He finished tying a knot in the ankle wrap of the man he had been healing, and scrambled to pack a bag.

Healing potions, lyrium potions from the hidden store, more bandages, a needle, a roll of gut for sutures... his hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped the bag, shoving his pillow in as an afterthought, and a change of clothing. “Okay,” he said to Donnic, and headed toward the door.

They were both out of breath when they arrived at the top of the stairs. There were guards everywhere now, and one set of them waved them through a barrier. There were none of the fires they’d seen in Lowtown here, but there were bodies everywhere, mostly stacked up in neat rows now, and aside from the guards the streets were empty.

Anders picked up his pace again once they were through the barrier, but did not drop into a run. No good to look suspicious in this atmosphere. Aveline had promised that Fenris would live. He would be there soon enough. He’d run most of the way already.

Aveline met them halfway up the stairs to Fenris’ room. “Stay with him,” she said to Donnic. “I’ll be back as soon as I may. The guards need their captain now, and I know he will be alright now that you are here.” She turned her eyes on Anders. “Do not make me regret my trust.”

Anders minutely shook his head, feeling afraid of her despite himself. She didn’t know. Didn’t understand how much she could trust that he would do his very best.

Fenris was stripped of his armor, curled on his side in the middle of his bed, wrapped in bandages that were steeped in blood. At a glance Anders could see cuts, scratches, stab wounds, and at least once broken bone. Bruises bloomed everywhere. He would need to use magic to do a quick probe before he even started healing. Triage Wynn had called it. He upended his bag onto the bed, dropped to his knees next to Fenris, gathered the fade around himself, and set to work.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Magic probed into Fenris, exploring his wounds. Hadriana, he thought, her leering face shimmered in and out of focus. “You’ll be good as new by the time he gets back,” she said, leaning into his broken arm, “We have so much time before then though. Days.” He couldn’t breath through the pain. Couldn’t keep his eyes open. He knew, with certainty and terror, that if he closed his eyes again she would break another bone. Her magic receded, and blackness reached up to claim him.

His eyes snapped open just as the magic returned, filling him, burning. Line after line after line of fire. Danarius pressing a knife into his chin. The smell of lyrium. “You’ll be perfect, little wolf. So strong. Fighting me even now. I’m so glad you’ll remember this intimacy.” His hand petting Fenris’ hair, even as the other hand pressed the knife in again. He tried to trash and couldn’t move at all. The magic held him even where restraints could not. He would suffocate, surely.

The stone table and metal restraints faded into silk sheet and ropes. Fenris was on his stomach now. Danarius’ smell, Hawke’s voice. “Are you going to be good for me now?” Magic still inside of him, and other things as well. He could not decide which pain to focus on. One of his bones _moved_ and he lost focus. Still he could not breath. Could not move.

He managed a breath and the whiteness receded. He was face down in the mud, tasting blood in his mouth, and feeling it grow tacky on his skin. He turned his head one way and a dead kossith stared back at him, blood drooling for its mouth. A friend? One of the Fog Warriors, but he could not remember the man’s name. It was important, he was sure. He turned his head the other way and Danarius was there again, also covered in blood, with horns like the arishok and Hawke’s armor. He reached his hand toward Fenris, magic still probing, but waning. Terror gave Fenris strength. He made it to his feet, turned, and ran blind into the forest. He didn’t see a cliff, but all of a sudden he was falling.

He woke. Opened his eyes to Anders kneeling over him, magic pooled around them both. The pain was excruciating. Anders gasped, and the magic receded. “I’m so sorry,” he mouthed, or said, Fenris wasn’t sure. He wanted to reply, _mage_ , but he was already being drawn back into the dark. This time he slept and did not dream.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Anders brushed Fenris’ hair out of his face and sat back. His shirt was soaked in sweat, and his mouth tasted like lyrium and felt like cotton. He wanted badly to simply curl up next to Fenris and go to sleep, but he knew there were still a few things he needed to do.

He’d healed the worst of it. Bones were where they were supposed to be, and mostly bonded into their usual pieces. A few would need a week or two to fully set, but they were well on their way at least. All the internal bleeding had been stopped, and mostly cleaned up. A couple of the worst wounds were healed up as well. Still, there were a couple of slashes Anders wanted to at least wrap up, if not stitch, and Fenris was all over gore. There might be other minor things hidden in the mess.

So, instead of sleeping Anders levered himself up from the bed and turned to go in search of some water.

“How is he,” Donnic asked, and everything flashed blue for a second before Anders could get himself under control. He’d forgotten that the guard was there.

“Better,” he said, hands pressed over his wildly beating heart. “Everything pressing is fixed. Can’t do any more tonight. He’ll go into shock. I want to wash him off though. I’m going to go find some water. He shouldn’t wake up, but if he does please try to convince him to stay on the bed?”

“Okay,” Donnic said.

-_-_-_-_-_-

It took a while to wash the gore off, even though Anders had heated the water before he brought it up to the room. He had to soak a few of the bandages before he peeled them away they were so well dried on. Plus there were remnants of poultices everywhere, dribbles of dried on healing potion around Fenris’ mouth, and bits of something stuck in his hair.

Anders found some sleeping shorts to change him into. By some miracle none of his armor was punctured, but it was still all a mess. He set it aside to deal with later. In the end he hadn’t needed to stitch Fenris up any, but there were a couple of wounds he’d wrapped well and would need to keep an eye on, and chances were good he’d want to apply a few more poultices himself tomorrow. Or do more healing, if Fenris would let him.

Donnic helped. He even offered to wash off Fenris’ armor for him, which Anders gladly accepted. What did he know about taking care of armor? Eventually he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. Lyrium refilled his magic, not his sleep. He felt like he’d been awake for days. Maybe he had. He made a pad of blankets on the floor next to Fenris’ bed and let sleep finally claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take quite as long. It's likely to be another one with more plot than sex though, so I can't promise anything.
> 
> Also, I apologize if this one has more typos than usual. I wanted to get it posted as soon as it was ready to go. If there's anything glaring please let me know?


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Sorry. Have been on a mental health adventure. This has been written for a while, but I wanted to make it longer. I make no promises on how long the next chapter will be coming, but I do plan to finish this eventually. Just, slowly? Sorry.

Everything ached. There were smaller sharper pains in with the general underlying pain, but they were mostly being subsumed by the ache of abused and then disused muscles. Everything was tense, tight, and most likely bruised and abraded as well. He kept his eyes closed, and his breath as even as he could manage. This felt like the mansion, but someone else was here. He could hear them moving.

Very slowly Fenris eased his eyes open, turned his head, and let out a relieved breath. Donnic was straddling a bench in front of his fireplace doing something with a piece of guard armor. Not a stranger. Not Denarius. The memories of both his dream and his last waking dissipated. Donnic turned his head and smiled, rising from the bench.

“He said you’d most likely wake up today,” Donnic said. “Aveline will be back with him in a few hours. Apparently the clinic is still quite busy. How are you feeling?”

“Stiff,” Fenris said, letting himself make a small grimace. “Stiff, sore, and I could use some help getting across the hall.”

“We have a chamber pot here,” Donnic said. “I’m not sure you should be putting weight on that ankle yet.”

Fenris turned his head to look back up at the ceiling. “I will not put weight on it if you help me.”

“Very well,” Donnic said. “I’ll blame you if I get yelled at though.” Fenris could hear the amusement in his voice.

“I am sure Aveline will not care if you blame me or not”

Donnic laughed. He was standing next to the bed now. “Need some help sitting up?” he asked. “You’ve been out for nearly two days. I imagine you’re more than just stiff and sore.”

Fenris levered himself up into a sitting position, and then slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I do not need help.”

“You’re just like her,” Donnic said with another laugh. “I can see why she likes you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Once they made it back to the room Donnic gave Fenris some thick meaty broth to drink, and offered some porridge or soft bread to go with it. Fenris took the broth, but rejected the bread and porridge. He knew to be careful with how much he ate, and how quickly, after having gone without for a few days.

Varric showed up not long after Fenris and Donnic had eaten, dragged over a chair, and proceeded to both update Fenris on the state of Kirkwall and their varied acquaintances, and tell him several of his favorite “no shit, there I was” stories. 

By the time Aveline and Anders finally showed up Fenris was settled back into bed, and had been there for a while.

“Varric,” Anders said, with some enthusiasm. “Just the dwarf I needed to talk to!”

“Blondie,” Varric said, “nice to see you too.”

Anders laughed. “It is nice to see you, and I am glad to see the Qunari didn’t make as much of a mess of you as they did of the elf here. I have a favor I need to ask of you. Can I speak with you in private for a moment?”

Varric followed Anders into the hall. They went down the stairs Fenris thought, listening. After a few moments he couldn’t hear them anymore and instead looked around the room for Aveline and Donnic.

They were standing in front of his fireplace, heads close together. Aveline’s hand was on Donnic’s upper arm. There was a flush of pink across both of their noses. Fenris looked studiously _away_.

When Fenris had first come to the Free Marches after escaping Denarius he had not known how to conduct himself in such situations. In Minrathous he had been required to watch. His job to pay attention to everything happening around him. The Fog Warriors had been very free with their affections. Watching had been permitted, maybe even expected. Isabela was often the same way as was Hawke. Most of the rest of the population did not like being watched, Aveline and Donnic included. He still tried to pay attention to everything around him, out of habit and his own fears, but discreetly now.

Eventually Fenris heard Aveline cough delicately next to him and looked up. She was still a little flushed, but she and Donnic were no longer touching. "Would you like more broth?" she asked.

Before Fenris could answer Anders and Varric came back. "If you don't mind waiting I'd like to change your bandages and see how things are healing first," Anders said.

"Very well," Fenris said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, though he kept the blanket over himself for now. Were they all going to watch this?

Anders came over and knelt on the floor beside the bed, not quite between his knees.

"Why didn't you heal everything the other night?" Aveline asked.

Anders looked up into Fenris' eyes. "Magical healing makes use of two properties. The first is our own body's ability to heal. Magical healing speeds that up. The second is the way the Fade echos the physical world. In battle the Fade holds recent memories of your body uninjured. Magical healing pulls from that memory, my own power, and your body's ability to heal, to return you to full health. The longer you wait the fainter the echos of health are and the more work both your body and my magic need to do.

“At some point in order to heal one thing I would have had to destroy something else. I healed everything life threatening or dangerous, and stopped before sending Fenris into shock, or causing more harm than good.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there, Aveline." Anders finally turned his head to look at her. "I don't ever want any of you to stay hurt."

Anders turned back to look at Fenris again. "You have deep cuts on your arm and across the tops of both legs, some sort of burn down your back, bruising everywhere, and your ankle was crushed. I fixed a bunch of internal trauma, and stabilized your ankle. Everything will heal on its own if it is taken care of, but the ankle will take a couple of months. If you will allow me to speed that up with healing I think it should take about a week."

Fenris scowled. Anders looked down. "You don't have to," he said quietly. "It will be fine if you don't. Varric says that Hawke owes you and Aveline both a bunch of money for that fight. Someone will stay here so you're not alone where you can be ambushed by slavers or something. I just..."

"You can't heal it all at once?" Aveline asked.

"No," Anders said. "Bone needs at least a little time to heal on its own. I can only rush the body so much. Fenris can decide how fast though, to some extent. I'll make a healing field," he said, holding his hands up and slightly apart from each other, looking up at Fenris again. "You can put your ankle into it until it feels right to you to stop, and then take it back out again. I won't move or touch you. I won't do anything to you without your permission. But, if we do that twice a day you should be fine by the end of the week. Ready to spar, and fight, and all of that."

"Very well," Fenris said again, looking up at Aveline. She nodded at him, face serious. "Make this field. I would like to get this over with."


End file.
